


The Diego Diaries

by arctapus



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, Transformers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-13 01:39:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 231,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arctapus/pseuds/arctapus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THERE ARE NO ARCHIVE WARNINGS FOR THIS STORY. THE DROP LIST THING WON'T POST THAT. You don't have to worry about their caveats. If I can figure this interface out better, I will make sure that is shown. :(</p>
<p>This is  humorous dramatic adventure in which a prank between Ratchet and Ironhide goes intergalactic with all the fallout one can expect when a wily canny old medico decides to frag the aft of a big hulking weapons expert. This is about clueless relationships, human soldiers and their combined mission. This is about reclaiming their world, their culture and their sanity. Humor and drama are mixed together to advance a story of epic length. I have been writing on the internet as Helmboy since 1996. I think it was all leading to this story. If you never thought you could read a story about robots, this is the one. This is ongoing and stands about 1100 chapters, nearing 3 million words and is updated everyday. I have written this story every day since November, 2010. Thank you for caring about this. If you like it, tell your friends. I feel the need to support my fandoms so if you like this, tell ten people. :D  Thank you, darlings in advance.  -Arctapus/Helmboy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 81-90

**Author's Note:**

> Every single note sent to me is answered. You are the pay off for the effort. Thank you in advance.

=0=The Diego Diaries

 

#81: "Where is everyone going?"

 

=0=Autobot HQ, Earth

Prowl turned to walk back to Ops Center when he heard the voices of Graham and Lennox calling to him. Pausing, comming Prime for guidance and getting it he waited. They walked inside and stopped before him looking up at his impassive face, his bright red Chevron slightly less so for some reason. "Captain Lennox and Lieutenant Graham."

"Prowl," Lennox began glancing back as the jets and Cosmos lifted off, "what's up?"

"Up?" Prowl asked only half feigning confusion.

"Where is everyone going?" Lennox asked clarifying his comments.

"They are on an exercise," Prowl responded.

"What kind? I'm asking because we might be able to combine our teams if its possible. It might benefit both of us perhaps," Graham asked noting a certain unease in the posture of the normally preternaturally calm figure of the S.I.C.

"We are doing drills around the solar system," Prowl lied. He paused considering it wasn't necessarily a lie. They were going out to enhance existing sensors and placing more on the planets and asteroids of the solar system. "We want to enhance the sensors of the early warning system and place more as well as run sweeps from Mercury to the Oort Field."

Lennox nodded, grinning. "I know you're doing that but I'll tell you, Prowl, it never gets old to hear you say it."

Prowl smiled a slight smile. But he added nothing more.

"Will Optimus be back today or is this a multi-day experience?" Lennox asked studying the expression on Prowl's face. Practice made Prowl more accessible to him. He had had some time with the taciturn Autobot and found chinks in the normally unreadable figure's facial composition.

"Optimus will be gone for two solar days," Prowl said. "I am sorry that we didn't list this on the duty schedule. It rather came about in discussion but if he is needed he will come back. If you send your inquiries to the Ops Center we will dispatch an Aerialbot or Cosmos to bring him back."

"That will be fine. We don't at the moment have anything today but the weekly N.E.S.T.-Autobot Staff Meeting is tomorrow morning."

Prowl paused shaking his head, his optics shuttering slightly. "I am sorry," he said. "I forgot. I believe that unless you have a vital need that we postpone that meeting until Wednesday morning." He paused, thinking. "I see nothing preventing it being held then."

"Of course," Lennox said, his eyes widening at the slip on Prowl's part. Prowl forgot things like he, Lennox could fly. It wasn't possible and he could see with a flick of his eyes that Graham was caught surprised as well. "That will be fine. I guess we better go."

Prowl nodded, hesitating, then stepped back and away moving toward Ops Center, disappearing around the corner.

The two soldiers stood silently and then looked at each other with surprise. Then they turned as well and began to walk back to their own office in the N.E.S.T. barracks across the way.

=0=Autobot City Air Field and Space Port, Mars

Springer watched them unload directing the new arrivals from Earth to tasks and toward newly made temporary roads to the fortress beyond. As Sideswipe and Sunstreaker walked toward him he pulled them aside and began to tell them what he wanted them to do.

=0=Prime

He walked out of Ops Center and paused looking downward. Standing before him, three little youngling mechs stood looking up at Prime with unblinking optics. Rambler holding a servo of each of his two brothers stood quietly. Prime smiled noting the battered paint schemes of all three younglings. "You have washed."

Rambler nodded. "Yes sir," he said quietly. "They let us wash and we came here now."

Prime nodded glancing around for a supervising adult. There wasn't one. "You need to recharge. Let me show you where you can." He turned, waiting for them to follow and Rambler tried, tugging his younger brothers to come along. They tried to follow, Spirit stumbling from weariness. Prime turned and scooped him up, the tiny mech's arms going around him again. He looked at T-Bar who was standing beside his brother, his helm bent and resting on his little servos. Prime bent down and scooped him up as well, the youngling cuddling against his chest, his servo resting on the Matrix chamber. "Can you walk, Rambler?"

"I think so," he said leaning against Prime in utter fatigue.

Prime shifted T-Bar then bent down scooping up Rambler who lay his helm on Prime's shoulder. Turning, he walked toward Medbay, the little younglings falling into a light recharge by the time he arrived. It was quieter, the worst was over and when Ratchet saw Prime he dropped a tool he was holding and walked over taking Rambler into his arms. He hugged the youngling, turning to walk into the back room. Prime followed. They put the youngsters down on a pile of blankets stacked in the back. Covering them with another one, they turned to go.

"Sir?"

They turned looking at Rambler who had pulled his brothers to his chassis, the younger mechs undisturbed from their recharge.

"Rambler?" Prime replied softly.

"What happens to us now?" he asked, his expression deeply fearful.

Prime stood a moment swallowing hard, then he walked over and sat down leaning against the wall. "I will stay here until you fall into recharge. Then you will recharge completely safely because Ratchet," he said pointing to the big mech in the doorway, "Ratchet will look after you."

"And when we wake up again will you still be here?" he asked, a tear slipping from his optics.

"I will," Prime said softly, wiping Rambler's tear away. "Recharge now. You are in the middle of the Autobot Army."

"No one can hurt us there," Rambler said laying down, his optics never leaving Prime. "You're our Prime."

"I am," Optimus said quietly. He pulled blankets up and tucked them around the younglings, glancing at Ratchet who was leaning on the doorjamb watching them. Prime shook his head, an expression of utter despair crossing his face for a second.

Ratchet nodded walking up and squatting down. "I can watch them when they are in recharge."

"You need to rest too. Three decaorns and you will be a patient in your own Medbay," Prime said quietly.

"I know. But I will stay here. When they are in recharge let me know and you can go and do what you have to do."

Prime nodded, his fingers stroking Rambler's helm. "How is Copper?"

"He's off the critical list," Ratchet said smiling. "He'll make it but it will be a long recovery."

Prime nodded smiling at last. "But he will make it."

Ratchet smiled back. "He will."

=0=In a room off the medbay

They carried the heavy boxes and went back for more equipment, setting it up on the tables that were there. Throwing tarp-like mats on the floor, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe turned and nodded at Springer who had helped them set up. Turning with a smile, he left them and they waited wordlessly, pulling bottles and tubes out of the boxes.

When Springer returned he had five youngling mechs and the sole orphaned femme in tow. He had them sit on the chairs by the door and taking the femme's hand he walked with her to Sunstreaker who stood looking down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Springer knelt next to the little femme, his arm going around her. "Silverbow, this is Sunstreaker. He's going to help you."

She looked up at him moving back into Springer's arm fearfully.

Springer looked up frowning. "Retract your blades, Sunstreaker."

Sunstreaker jolted, glancing down. He looked at Sideswipe and both retracted their blades. Then Sunny pulled up a chair and sat bringing himself closer to the tiny femme. Reaching out, he held out his servo, his expression softening into something not often present on his helm, a soft smile. She reached out hesitantly, glancing at Springer. He nodded, smiling and she walked closer looking up at Sunstreaker with frightened optics.

Sunstreaker swallowed hard and lifted her into his lap running his fingers over the scrapes and scratches on her thin little arm. "This won't take much to fix," he said squeezing her shoulders. He set her back on her peds once more. "Stand right here and let me see what we can do about this. When I get done you are going to be the prettiest femme on the whole slaggin' world."

With that, he picked up a sander, set it at the softest grit possible and began the delicate task of replacing the little femme's green and pink paint scheme. Springer watched, then nodded to Sideswipe, reaching out to bring a solemn faced little mech to him to repair and repaint. Sideswipe smiled at the child and began.

=0=Five joors later

Prime walked out of the temporary barracks for bachelor adult mechs and paused looking down. Standing in front of him were three little mech. He smiled and knelt. "I thought you were in Medbay."

"We were. But then a big yellow mech came and got us. He did this for us, he and a red one." Rambler turned slowly, self-consciously happy with the glowing red and white paint scheme that now covered him. His brothers were looking at Prime with shy smiles, Spirit's servo rubbing the paint job on his chassis with his digits as if in awe that it was so pretty and all his. All three little mechs were white and red. All of them positively glowed they were so shiny. Then Rambler dropped T-Bar's servo, raising his shoulder and turning so Prime could see. On his shoulder and on the shoulder of the two other mechs was the cat-like face of the Autobot insignia. It was tiny, just their size, red and glowing. "See what he did for us? Sunstreaker made us Autobots too."

Prime smiled and nodded gathering them into an embrace. "He did didn't he," he said softly, smiling. "He sure did."

=0=N.E.S.T. Barracks, Officer's Office complex

Graham and Lennox filled Epps in, all of them sitting together quietly.

"I have never seen Prowl like that," Lennox said. "He looked sick and upset."

"How can you tell?" Epps asked.

"You can if you look enough times. He was uncertain and oddly tense. He actually couldn't contain it," Graham said. Lennox nodded.

It was silent a moment, then Lennox shook his head. "I have a few questions for the meeting Wednesday."

"I do too," Graham replied quietly.

=0=On the way to Ops Center

Prime paused noting a line of mechs and three femmes bearing sparklings sitting and standing outside of a room near the command center. He walked to the door nodding and smiling at the individuals waiting who looked at him with something akin to worshipful awe. He walked inside and paused, watching as Sideswipe painstakingly detailed a mech that was covered in patches and welds, new armor and plating added to places that had not seen the proper attention in a long long time. Sunstreaker was working on an older mech, one who was appreciative and whose optics never left Sunny's servos, watching every movement and application, savoring it.

The twins glanced up smiling at him with a shake of their heads. "Springer."

Prime nodded, smiling. "Good." He walked closer looking at the older mech's paint job. "This looks good."

"It's the first time in vorns and vorns that anything was done to my paint scheme, sir. I am so grateful. It feels so good to be clean. It feels good to have my dignity back," he said swallowing hard, his optics watering.

Optimus took his servo and squeezed it. "It is our great honor."

The older mech looked at him and nodded. "Thank you."

Prime nodded. "You don't need to thank us. You are with the Autobots now and you are home."

The older mech nodded, smiling slightly. "It's been a long hard journey."

"When you are able I want to hear it. Are there others out there?" Prime asked.

The mech nodded. "More than you can imagine," he said with a whisper.

Prime nodded, squeezing the older mech's servo. "Let the mechs here take care of you."

The old mech smiled glancing at Sunstreaker. "I would like an Autobot designation on my arm too. If you wouldn't mind," he asked falling back into uncertainty.

Sunstreaker looked up at him pausing for a moment before smiling slightly. "Slaggin' right."

Prime grinned.

=0=

 

#82: Flash Back

 

The Diego Diaries: Flash back

=0=Prowl

He stood in the hangar doorway, the moon overhead a sliver of bright light hanging in the sky. He had been there several times finding nothing of import about it beyond a routing array of sensors, communications relays and a mineral they needed to make a flexible metal that was useful in creating medical replacement parts in Aerialbot's comm and sensor systems.

The moon had nothing for him. The tiny blinking red light nearby it did. Mars had his spark, his world, his partner and bond mate. Optimus was there and he wished to be the same even as he loathed going. All the suffering that symbolized their entire life was gathering there, chaff blown in the winds of war falling into their hands and safety at last.

Turning, he looked back, noticing Bluestreak walking toward him. Pausing behind him, Blue slipped his arms around Prowl laying his head on Prowl's shoulder, Prowl's wings lying flat on his back for his youngling. Prowl squeezed Bluestreak's servo swaying gently as they stood together.

"You are upset," Bluestreak said.

"I will be fine," Prowl lied.

"You can tell me," Bluestreak said.

"I could tell you many things," Prowl said. "I could tell you that you are my greatest treasure, that I am proud of you and that I love you dearly."

"You just did," Bluestreak said with a chuckle.

"I did didn't I," Prowl said with a slight grin. He shook his head.

"Our people are coming to us, to Optimus," Bluestreak said quietly.

"They are," Prowl said pulling Bluestreak's arms tighter around his waist.

"That bothers you?" Bluestreak asked quietly.

"Not that," Prowl said looking up at the sky, the red star beyond the moon winking at him as it twinkled.

"The idea of it," Bluestreak said. "The idea of it?"

Prowl mused upon it for a moment and nodded slightly. "Yes, maybe ... I think so," Prowl said quietly.

As they stood together, a camera snapped pictures and video rolled. It continued when Bluestreak stepped around his genitor and hugged him around the neck, the two holding each other for a while. It continued as Bluestreak said goodnight and walked to his quarters to recharge. And it continued until Prowl turned and walked inside himself.

=0=Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

The older mech and several others told the same story. They had been neutrals living in a colony on a planet on the flight path from Cybertron to Junk. They had worked hard to not only establish themselves but to not take sides, preferring to keep the war and its destruction away.

When they were noticed they agreed to make munitions for the Decepticons in exchange for being unmolested otherwise. It worked for a time but Megatron could not maintain even the most trivial alliances without causing destruction and disaster to eventually undo them. They were enslaved, overworked, undernourished and abused. They were given greater and greater quotas to fill that became impossible. As the productivity fell, the abuse rose.

During a especially grueling orn, their guards had overenergized and fallen into a stuperous recharge. The four oldest surviving mechs, these mechs telling the tale had gathered the fifty remaining members of the colony and slipped away on a stolen shuttle. It was a desperate measure and they barely stayed ahead of the Decepticons, sharing out their meagre rations and flying constantly. They were nearly at the end when a chance encounter with three Aerialbots, all on their way to a call issued by the Prime saved them from capture.

They flew onward barely energized enough to continue, the Aerialbots taking turns carrying the greater number of mechs and femmes, the rest flying alongside to fight and scan. It was a miracle that they made it. It was a miracle that they survived. The Aerialbots were on their last legs when they arrived, facilitating a number of the more able and physically well mechs to step outside of the ships and make the final part of the journey in their transitional forms.

The senior Autobots listened gleaning from the survivors as much information as they could and when they were finished telling the tale they were led back to their new temporary homes to rest.

"Jazz, I want the sensors monitored day and night with the idea that there are Decepticon interceptors following. I want more sensors in the Oort Field and I want the Aerialbots and Cosmos to make regular reconn flights around the solar system with an emphasis on the solar well beyond. I don't want anyone coming up our tail pipes by surprise."

Jazz nodded glancing at Wheeljack and Perceptor. "That deep space sensor array that you want to mount in the clouds of Venus and Jupiter ... we need to talk."

Both mechs nodded.

"I want a survey of the refugees' skills and training. I want it put into the skills database. We are going to be building housing sooner rather than later and I want to know if we have skills in this group that can be utilized. Also, our new arrivals when they recover will need to work at something and we could use extra hands building the city."

Jazz nodded glancing at Mirage. "We can interview them as soon as you sign off, Ratchet."

Ratchet nodded.

"What is their physical status, Ratchet?" Prime asked.

"Well, very poor at the moment. All of the adults bear the scars of beatings and I think some of them were used for sport, either in shooting contests or gladitorial events. Even the younglings and one of the sparklings show signs of systematic abuse."

The room was silent a moment and Ironhide shifted, a soft growl issuing from him. He turned around looking at Prime. "How do you abuse sparklings?" he asked, coolant pooling in his optics. "Younglings … sparklings … how do you hurt them?"

No one answered. Ratchet reached out and took Ironhide's servo, squeezing it. Ironhide paused a moment, then looked at Prime. "What are we going to do with the orphans? We have eight orphan mechs and one femme. They need guardians who will act as their genitors. What will we do, Prime?"

Prime considered that, the three little mechs passing through his processor. "We have them here and we will take care of them. I want to know more about them and if they have anyone before we allow them to be adopted or taken under guardianship."

Ironhide nodded. "We have a duty to them to see that they grow up better. I don't know what they must feel like after the life they've had but the sparklings … they don't make a sound."

No one spoke. It was silent on the command deck.

=0=Prowl

He waited for the link to connect and then Optimus's face was on the screen. He smiled relaxing once more. "Hello."

"Hello," Optimus said relaxing at the sight of Prowl.

"How is it? Are you all right?" Prowl asked, tension infusing his words.

"No one is going to the Matrix. Ratchet is a miracle worker."

Prowl smiled.

"What's wrong, Prowl? I have felt something sorrowful from you since the refugees showed up."

Prowl looked down and shook his head. "It's nothing, really."

Prime looked at Prowl, frowning. "You know better than that."

Prowl looked up. "What about the younglings, Optimus? What are we going to do with the little ones?"

Prime looked at Prowl. "Come here to Mars. I need you here."

Prowl looked around at the quiet command deck, half of the positions automatically manned. "I have to stay here. Who will run the Center?"

"Switch functions to here," Prime said soothingly. "I want you here. I'm sending Cosmos. Be ready."

Prowl opened his mouth to say something, then paused. "All right," he said softly. "I'll be waiting."

Prime nodded, his expression soft with love for Prowl. "I'll be waiting too."

=0=On the tarmac

He stood by a jet, a real jet, leaning against its hard contoured side. A light in the sky signaled the arrival shortly of Cosmos. Prime had noticed what he had kept hidden and now he wanted Prowl to come. He wondered if he could talk about it, this long hidden torment. He never talked about it unless he was pressed to the wall and he was sure that Prime would be relentless.

The form of Cosmos began to materialize and when he landed, side door opening, Prowl walked forward entering. Without a sound, Cosmos rose up and with a swiftness nothing else on Earth could produce was gone from the sight of man in nanokliks.

=0=Arrival

Prowl stepped off Cosmos, the big shuttle moving to park in the midst of the Aerialbots, five now all huddled together talking on internal comm lines. As he walked forward, he saw Prime's outline in the darkness. Pausing, Prowl walked forward and slipped his arms around Prime who reciprocated, holding Prowl in a tight embrace.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet

They lay together on a cot in the back of the Medbay, one designed for overnight stays by medical personnel. Ratchet lay in Ironhide's arms tracing a circular pattern in the armor of the big brooding mech. "You should say what you feel, Ironhide. It makes it easier."

"I was thinking of our sparkling and how I would feel if someone hurt it."

It was silent a moment. Ratchet nodded silently.

"I'm going to find out the name of the mech who hurt that sparkling and then I'm going to kill him if we ever cross paths. I will do it with my bare hands."

Ratchet nodded again, the haunted eyes of the sparkling, a tiny undernourished infant named Rain passing through his processor before he repressed the memory with effort. "I will help you, Ironhide," Ratchet said softly.

=0=Nearby

They drove to a nearby bluff, transforming to sit on a rocky outcropping. Prowl leaned against Prime, watching one of the two moons of Mars begin its traverse across the darkening sky.

"Will you tell me about it?" Prime asked slipping his arm around Prowl and pulling him closer.

"It's hard," Prowl said. "Its hard to think about it."

"I know but it will help you."

Prowl was silent a moment and then haltingly, he began to tell Prime about Praxus, about the effort to find someone, anyone alive. Then he told him the tale of his youngling. He told him about Bluestreak.

=0=

 

#83: Carry On

 

=0=Autobot City, on a rock outcropping nearby, Mars

They sat together, the memories of a thousand war-torn wastelands rising before them as they reflected silently.

Prowl leaned into Optimus whose arm was around him holding him closely. "I'm sorry."

Optimus looked down, the handsome face of his most beloved clouded with emotions. "Why? Because sometimes it piles up and you can't cope?"

"You bear such a heavy burden. I'm suppose to lift that, not add to it."

Optimus smiled, kissing Prowl's helm. "You do that just by walking into a room."

Prowl straightened and looked at Optimus. "You are the total sum of my happiness. Without you there is nothing in my spark or this life to keep me here. Not even Blue."

Optimus nodded. "Then you understand me too."

Prowl nodded and smiled slightly. "This was one battlefield too many at this moment. Sparklings, older mechs and femmes ... to see them hurt ... sometimes ... I just can't ..." He paused. "I will be fine."

"I know," Optimus said leaning in for a soft kiss. His lips lingered and then he sat back looking at Prowl with an expression that stilled the smaller mech. "Don't be afraid to tell me when the darkness comes. I am here for you. Always."

Prowl nodded. "And I am for you," he said softly.

Optimus pulled Prowl close, the two holding each other. "We should get back," he whispered.

"We should." Prowl smiled. "Later."

Optimus smiled and glanced down. "Well said."

=0=Diego Garcia, Lieutenant Niall Graham

They went through the day, the lack of activity at the Autobot HQ an unusual sight for soldiers and airmen going here and there. Graham walking toward the main administration building looked at the hangar doors, the empty rec room just beyond and felt a lonesome feeling falling over him. There were bots inside but few. Almost all of them were gone on their 'training exercise' and it was 'empty' around here.

/... so this is what it will feel like if Galloway gets elected and has his way … I miss them and they aren't even gone .../

He continued onward, the silence of the area disturbing.

=0=Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

Prowl leaned over Teletraan III, the computer nexus on Mars that was the mirror image of the one at Diego Garcia. It actually was the same super computer, an annex of the one on Earth but the designation kept the two separated and the confusion to a minimum. Beyond the command deck, the base was working hard to help, comfort and absorb the fifty refugees.

Prowl turned and paused looking down. Standing in the middle of the command deck were three little mechs standing together, two smaller ones on each side of a taller one, their servos gripped tightly in his own. They were white and red, shiny in a new penny sort of way and looking around like they were lost. For a moment, he could see Bluestreak, little and distraught, battered, broken and covered in his mother's energon. For a moment, it wasn't the command deck of Autobot City Ops Center. It was the debris and body strewn hell of Praxus with its toxic smells, its still exploding ordinance and one small little mech standing on rubble and body parts screaming and screaming. He swallowed hard and walked to the three kneeling and looking them in the optics. "Hello."

They looked at him with their little blue optics, a nervous skittish look that Prowl remembered so well. "We were looking for our Prime," the oldest one said shyly, a touch of fear in his voice. "He knows us."

Prowl swallowed again, touching Rambler's cheek. "Then we will find him then," he said rising and picking up Spirit who curled his little body against Prowl. He stroked T-Bar's face and caressed Rambler. "Come with me. Let's find our Prime." Taking T-Bar's servo, smiling at Rambler to follow, the four walked slowly out the door to find their Prime.

=0=Ironhide

He walked around the plant inspecting the machinery and the process. Energon was being made in bulk quantities and they were able to cut their need for petroleum products off, supplying energy to their garrison including the Aerialbots directly from here. Most of it was underground, built to be defended against Decepticon attack should they feel they could do so here.

Three of the mechs from the refugee group were energy experts who were anxious to work here, to do something in return for the 'right to stay'. He shook his head. It would take a while for them to understand they were welcome here. They owed nothing and didn't have to prove they were worthy or useful. That they were here, their first reclamation project, their countrymen, it was enough payment.

He turned and walked down the long underground tunnel that connected the energon plant to the huge central room out of which all the tunnels to the city were connected, like a big wheel with many spokes running out of a central hub. The garrison was the hub and everything else was a spoke radiating out to areas on the plateau. It had taken day and night shifts working and toiling with incredible dedication to get this far and all of it was designed to withstand attack, based on what they had learned the hard way elsewhere.

The smelter also ran full time making the materials that they needed to build, shore up and expand with as they began to make the planned city come to life. There would be buildings above ground but not yet. The garrison was the most noticable and was incredibly fortified against air and land attack. It would be fall back zone one for all inhabitants and from there, the Autobots would defend all.

Walking to the hub, pausing to talk to a number of bots, Ironhide turned and climbed the stairs ignoring the lift which was filled with supplies for the temporary barracks being built in the corridor leading to the smelter. Some of the mechs working were refugees already pitching in and Ironhide felt happy to see them rising up again.

They would all rise up he considered. High enough to kick Starscream's aft. With that, he disappeared from view into the busy mech-filled halls of the fortress.

=0=Ratchet

He began to clear out the last few refugees giving them their instructions on after care and hugging the sparklings as the femmes gathered their bond mates. When they found out he was sparked, it actually prompted a response from two of the most beaten down femmes, both crowding around Ratchet to ask him how he was doing, offering pointers and feeling for a moment like they were normal and their life hadn't been slag for what seemed like eons. When they finally walked out, little families reunited once more, Ratchet stood and ruminated. Then he commed Arcee to come to the Medbay.

=0=Prime

He was in the armory checking out the inventory of combustibles when Prowl and the youngling mechs arrived. They had climbed down the stairs, eschewing the crowded elevators and wend their way along the lighted corridors to the place where Prowl's sensors had located his bond. Entering, Rambler dropped Prowl's servo and ran toward Prime, stopping shyly in front of him. Looking down smiling, Prime knelt and pulled the little mech into his arms hugging him. Rambler clung to him, holding him and when Prime arose the little mech gripped him tightly with his legs.

Prime smiled reaching out to caress the cheeks and sweet faces of T-Bar and Spirit. "I see you found my entourage."

Prowl nodded shifting from ped to ped as he swayed for Spirit, the little mech clinging to him tightly. T-Bar moved to Optimus wrapping his arms around the Prime's leg holding him as tightly as he could. "We appear to be in the throes of a love fest."

Prime snorted and smiled. "I was one of the first mechs they saw."

"I can see that. Did you see the little Autobot designation on their arms?" Prowl asked, smiling.

"Springer had Sunstreaker and Sideswipe repaint the refugees. Sunstreaker put those on all the children. Then the adults and younglings asked for them."

"They're very cute," Prowl said rubbing Spirit's little arm. "Do you know who they belong to?" Prowl stared at Prime, a wave of emotion passed between them over the bond.

"We are sorting that out now," Prime said reaching down to pick Rambler up off the floor. "We have to make sure that families stay intact." The younglings lay against him comforted by his presence and Prowl smiled at him getting a sheepish grin in return. "I think I could use a break. How about going to the lounge and getting some energon," Prime asked with a smile.

Rambler looked up at him patting his chassis with his little servo. "Can we come too?" he asked, the fear back in his voice.

Prowl and Prime paused gathering themselves. "Of course you can."

They turned and walked to the main floor and the lounge beyond Ops Center.

=0=Bluestreak

He sat at Teletraan II and watched the updates come through, the refugees breaking down into several distinct groups. They totaled fifty. Of those fifty, four were older mechs, nine were younglings ... eight mechs and one femme. There were also three sparklings, all of them mech. Their mothers along with the youngling femme totaled four in all. The remaining count left thirty-one adult mechs, some of them in dire condition when they had arrived.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were there assisting and providing security in case of Decepticon interception of the refugees by their pursuers. There was nothing on the radar or sensor nets yet but he knew from experience that it could all change in a spark beat.

The majority of the mechs would be returning to Diego in the early morning hours, coming back from their 'training exercise' to resume their duties here. Sideswipe was coming back but Sunstreaker had been assigned to Autobot City indefinitely.

It sucked.

He sat and watched the grids, sending and receiving signals until the end of his shift in the late afternoon. After that, he sat and watched the moon and beyond it the red twinkling light of Mars which held the entirety of his life in its sandy dusty shores.

=0=Hound

He sat on the floor holding out color sticks for the tiny femme, Silverbow. She had not spoken a word since they had come here but she was clean, shined and sparkling. Her light green and pink paint scheme was replaced thanks to Sunstreaker, her little red Autobot insignia charmingly placed on her left shoulder. She sat and drew pictures taking the color sticks from Hound.

He had carried her to the various appointments that were designed to ascertain her condition and when he had put her down at the Medbay for her second round of tests she had held his servo and refused to let go even for Ratchet. She had stared at him silently, her tiny blue optics never wavering and only Hound holding her allowed Ratchet to do what he needed.

She had been found to be healthy and well despite being beaten and starved. Hound looked at her, this tiny little youngling and felt a deep burning outrage. How anyone could harm the young and the old, he didn't know. He just knew that wherever he went in the fortress, the little femme jogged along behind, never speaking, never allowing him out of her sight.

Trailbreaker walking in to kneel smiled at the little femme who paused in her coloring, looking from Hound to Trailbreaker and back to Hound again.

Then she smiled back.

=0=In a corridor on the way to the smelter where the refugees were being billoted

She had left Medbay, a new mission handed to her by Ratchet. They had talked and talked, deciding that a liaison was needed for the tiniest minority in the city. She agreed whole-heartedly and turned marching out to seek them.

She found them huddled together in a little group, their bond mates sitting on berths exhausted and silent with relief at their changed circumstances. They held silent sparklings looking at her as she came to them. She smiled and reached out hugging the nearest femme. Holding her, her arms wrapped around both her and her sparkling, she whispered softly to the group. "I am Arcee. I'm here to help you."

=0=

 

#84: “What younglings?”

 

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They began to gather at the entrance to the fortress, gear bags and boxes being stowed on Silverbolt, Cosmos and Sky Dive. The other Aerialbots were staying due to their physical debilitation. The other three would ferry most of the Autobots back to Diego Garcia and return here when they were finished. In a few days, the Aerialbots and Cosmos would shift off to Diego and take up their station there.

Hound, a sleepy Silverbow in his arms stood outside the Ops Center waiting with Trailbreaker for Prime to walk out. He was bent over a schematic of the next phase of Autobot City and so they waited nervously. Silverbow laying against Hound's shoulder stroked his armored neck with her servo, absently seeking and receiving warmth and comfort by the action. Swaying gently as he held the little femme Hound waited anxiously for Prime. Finally, Trailbreaker squeezed his arm and walked onto the Command Deck. "Sir?" he asked.

Optimus turned giving Trailbreaker his attention.

"Sir, I think we have a problem," Trailbreaker said.

=0=A few minutes later

They sat in a conference room off Ops Center, four little younglings and their anxious companions. Trailbreaker stood by the door shifting from ped to ped as Hound sat on a chair, Silverbow leaning against him on his lap. Three little white and red mechs stood beside the table, Spirit sitting on Prowl's lap, T-Bar leaning against him as they sat on the couch and Rambler standing as close to Prime as he dared, his anxious faceplates telling his story, his servos ringing together in fear.

They had gathered in the room, the younglings and the mechs who had been their helpers during processing and looked at each other, the situation that had arose demanding delicate handling. Ratchet and Ironhide sitting on the other side of the table waiting looked from one to the other, already convinced as to what to do for the little younglings.

"When we took her to the youngling's quarters, she got hysterical when we said we had to leave her," Hound said softly. The femme hearing his words turned and burrowed into his chassis looking over her shoulder with fearful optics at everyone in the room. He hugged her, kissing her helm. "She has bonded to us, sir. What are we going to do?"

Prowl looked at Prime shrugging. "What are we supposed to do with this? These little mechs and the femme don't have anyone."

"We don't know that yet, Prowl," Prime began taking and squeezing Rambler's servo.

"I asked the survivors," Prowl said. "There younglings have no surviving family. They didn't make it out of the ordeal. These are legitimate orphans."

Prime was silent a moment, then turned to Ratchet. "What is your opinion on this, Ratchet?"

Ratchet considered the anxious silent younglings. "They are bonding out of pain and seeking solace. I would think depriving them of the mechs that give them a sense of safety would be very detrimental to their recovery. Right now, they don't feel safe without you in their optical range. They cling to you and feel desperate when you aren't there. I would think that we have a special circumstance here and we have to do the right thing. We have to take them with us."

Prime leaned back looking at Prowl. "These are three traumatized younglings."

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Prowl said softly. "It is up to you."

Prime grinned slightly. "Thanks."

Prowl grinned back. Slightly. "You're welcome."

Prime looked at the little femme falling into recharge in Hound's arms. He looked at the three little mechs that watched him closely, their anxiety palpable. Then he nodded. "I agree."

Rambler looked from one to the other, then walked to Prime putting his little servos on Prime's arm. "What is going to happen to us?" he asked, his face and voice betraying his fear.

"You are coming with us," Prime said squeezing the little mech's servo.

"My brothers too?" he asked glancing at the two silent mechs leaning against Prowl.

Prime nodded. "You will all be coming with us."

Rambler put his head down on Prime's arm, his shoulders sagging. Prime pulled him into his arms and held him glancing at Prowl. "This is going to be hard. You know that."

"Who else better to know that," Prowl answered with a slight smile.

"Who indeed," Prime replied rising to head for the door, Rambler in his arms, the others following.

=0=On the way to Diego Garcia

Silverbow sitting on Hound's lap holding Trailbreaker's thumb in her servo watched the other mechs with unblinking optics. They sat around the hold of Cosmos, Sideswipe and others flying through the vacuum toward the garrison that was home.

In the hold of Silverbolt, lying on duffel bags recharging, three little mechs slept. Optimus Prime sat next to them, his arm around Prowl's shoulders as they talked about what they had to do with the youngling's. Ironhide sitting with Ratchet watched them, amused out of his peds that they had beaten him in the sparkling race. Three for them to his one. That Prime, he was one virile mech he thought with a snort.

Ratchet looking at a datapad filled with data for the report he had to write looked at Ironhide. "What?" he asked.

Ironhide glancing at Ratchet shook his helm. "Nothing."

=0=At the base in Diego Garcia

They walked off the shuttles carrying gear and four younglings heading for the hangar beyond. Prowl holding a satchel full of datapads, Spirit who was deeply recharging and the servo of T-Bar considered what they would do about putting the mechs to bed.

Behind him carrying a groggy Rambler, Prime was in discussion with Ironhide about the upcoming day's agenda including the weekly Senior Autobot-N.E.S.T. Staff Meeting in a few hours. The soldiers would be present and probably a few extras, civilians with a project and other non-Autobot individuals. The problem was keeping the younglings low key. He himself would provide the cover story on their presence.

He would lie.

They walked into the hangar moving toward their berths, catching up with those who had stayed as they went. Beyond the hangar across the tarmac hidden in the shadows of Cosmos's empty hangar a camera with long range lenses snapped away.

=0=Later that day

Prowl sat at his station in the Ops Center preparing the agenda for the meeting. When he arose he paused looking down. Three little red and white mechs were standing there looking up. Prowl smiled. So did they.

Hound and Trailbreaker standing outside of the wash racks, a tiny green and pink femme in Hound's arms waited for the three mechs inside to finish. They walked out pausing to exclaim over the femme who sat shyly with a slight smile on her face. Sideswipe following them paused, sheathing his swords fully. He grinned, tapping her nose structure with his digit. She smiled and leaned shyly back into Hound. "My brother, Sunstreaker, did your paint. Aren't you the cutest femme on planet Earth."

Hound grinned. "She's the only one right now," he said leaning in to peek. "Everyone out?"

Sideswipe nodded, moving aside for them to enter. He stood at the door watching as Hound and Trailbreaker carefully explained everything. Then they set a barrel on its end, placing her on her peds on top of it. Regulating a spray, they began to wash her, soaping her up and gently spraying it all away. By the time they were done and she was wrapped in a towel Sideswipe had decided that **little** youngling femmes were alright too. He turned and walked to the hangar to prepare for his duty shift.

=0=The Senior Autobot-N.E.S.T Weekly Staff Meeting

They drove inside the hangar parking by the door of the conference room. Wheeljack and Perceptor were there with plans of some kind. Long range deep space sensor something or other they heard as they moved the ladder and began to climb upwards. Crossing the table, sitting on their chairs, they kicked back and nodded listening to the conversation. That is, the conversation that was in English.

Prime and Prowl entered walking to their places greeting everyone. Ironhide and Ratchet entered, others also with a place at the table for the meeting, then the door opened once more, another human walking in. Coming around the table stilling conversation as he did, Jase Daniels walked to the ladder and began to climb upward, crossing the table's expanse and stopping beside the soldiers. Epps, Lennox and Graham looked at him without rising from their chairs.

"What are you doing here, Daniels?" Lennox asked none too politely.

"I'm here for the meeting. I have been given permission to attend these weekly meetings." He turned and looked at Prime. "I appreciate you telling your guards to let me come in. I would have hated to call General Morshower."

Prime looking at him with an expression somewhere between indifference and disgust shrugged. "You are late."

"My apologies," he said looking around for a seat on the table top.

Ironhide looking at him as if he were a cockroach in his salad slapped an empty cartridge box on the table. "Here, Daniels. Sit on this."

Daniels staring at the box, the faint smell of munitions emanating off of it looked at Ironhide. "Can I assume that this is an empty box?"

Ironhide shrugged smiling a humorless smile. "You can. But you know what they say … assuming makes an aft out of you and me."

Ratchet snorted and smiled. "Finally, an Earth saying I can get behind."

=0=In a room nearby

Bluestreak sat on the floor, a little femme sitting on his lap, an art stick in her servo. Bluestreak was holding a piece of cardboard and the little femme was drawing on it. Nearby, playing with a set of wooden blocks of all shapes the three mechs were building a copy of the fortress of Autobot City. Helping them, Bumblebee and Hound lay on the floor, the chatter of younglings and the peaceful atmosphere drawing others into the room. Some sat around reading datapad novels, others sat and discussed the building techniques being used and others discussed the use of color in portraits by talented femmes.

For the first time in the lifetime of most of them, they could sit and interact with children of their own species. They could see them, talk to them, touch them. And as they did they found something else happening. They found themselves loving them.

=0=

 

#85: Daniels

 

=0=Senior Autobot-N.E.S.T. Weekly Meeting, Diego Garcia

"What are you doing here, Daniels?" Lennox asked none too politely.

"I'm here for the meeting. I have been given permission to attend these weekly meetings." He turned and looked at Prime. "I appreciate you telling your guards to let me come in. I would have hated to call General Morshower."

Prime looking at him with an expression somewhere between indifference and disgust shrugged. "You are late."

"My apologies," he said looking around for a seat on the table top.

The exchange between Prime and Daniels was short and sharp, the human settling and looking at Prime with his usual unreadably blank expression. The others in the room stirred but finally settled, tension rising in a meeting that was usually free of such.

They began, discussing the progress of the contracts that they had made with green companies to produce batteries and other energy efficient items that would pay their expenses and leave them less open to criticism from right winged agenda driven people.

Like Daniels Ratchet thought, looking at Daniels like he was a specimen.

Daniels for his part sat and listened as Lennox and the soldiers discussed personnel, training schedules and faint glitches on the intel regarding the bad guys. It was clear that Lennox was being extremely careful with what he was disclosing due to Daniels' proximity and Prime made a mental note to talk to the soldiers later in the day.

The rest of the agenda went well, Autobots leaving and arriving depending on the discussion items. By the time they were nearing the end Prime opened the floor to discussion as usual and Daniels began.

"I don't know if you saw the news this morning," he said glancing at Prime and Prowl. "There appears to be evidence that there are children on this base, Autobot children."

The temperature in the room, never warm since he came through the door dropped to frigid and everyone turned their optics to Prime soldiers included. Prime staring at Daniels as he considered his response found himself loathing with an intensity he usually didn't reserve for anyone but senior Decepticons the human sitting on the table staring at him impassively.

"I haven't heard today's news," Prime said equally impassively.

"There are photos of Autobots including you," he said nodding at Prowl, "walking off of jets carrying very small child-like Autobots."

"Prowl."

He glanced at the S.I.C. who was looking at Daniels coldly. "My designation is Prowl."

Daniels nodded. "Whatever. My question still stands."

A shift among those present didn't phase Daniels and Prime wondered if anything really did. He leaned forward. "And why do you ask?"

"Our treaty agreements allow for your garrison but children are not included."

"Our treaties call for sanctuary for any Autobot that hears the call I made for them to come," Prime said quietly, leaning forward slightly. "That would include any children or infants that can get here."

"Then there are children," Daniels persisted pausing from his writing to look up at Prime.

Prime leaned back considering how much to disclose. "Two days ago we received a distress signal from three of our Aerialbots who were coming to Earth guided by my call. They were carrying refugees that they had found fleeing Decepticon pursuit and requested assistance. We rendered it."

"And the refugees? And the three Aerialbots? Where are they? I would like to see them," Daniels said making more notes.

"Nothing in our agreements requires us to allow you to see anyone who comes to us," Prime said. "The language allows us leeway to handle our personnel situations independent of your scrutiny. As for the Aerialbots, they will be coming here shortly."

"I think its well within the rights of the United States government to be able to verify the presence of more Autobots on Diego Garcia. The cost of allowing-"

Prime sitting farther forward cut Daniels off. "Our treaties and agreements are very explicit in our autonomy and the right to privacy. We are allowed to repatriate our people without undue scrutiny. We are also paying our own way now so your comments about costs are irrelevent."

Daniels scrutinized Prime levelly. "What are you hiding, Prime?"

Prime looked at him, disdain on his faceplates. "What are you hiding, Mr. Daniels?"

It was silent a moment. No one spoke or moved. Daniels sat back regarding his opponent. "I am the authorized representative of the United States State Department to Diego Garcia carrying the brief for the Autobot garrison and the N.E.S.T. program."

"And I am the Prime of Cybertron, the guardian not only of the Creation Matrix but the well-being and safety of all my people everywhere. I am commander of an army that was old when your people were still sitting in trees. Why someone on this base took pictures and released them, I don't know. I will find them and there will be consequences."

"Are you making threats?" Daniels asked.

"I don't make threats. I make promises and I keep them. You might tell that to your superiors."

"I will," Daniels said. "The Secretary of State-"

"I wasn't referring to her," Prime said sitting back. "I was referring to Nast."

It was silent a moment, then Daniels sat back himself regarding Prime levelly. "You have proof of your accusation?"

"I am not given to making unfounded accusations," Prime replied.

"Is that so," Daniels said glancing at his notes. "I would appreciate a time in which I can see the children, to ascertain their existence on base. We are not in the habit of keeping children on a forward military base."

Prime leaned forward. "You will not be seeing anyone. This is an embassy and sovereign soil for Cybertron. Our treaties allow us to refuse requests from anyone including your President."

"Then my report to the State Department will note that you refused a reasonable request. And I might add, something that might defuse some of the rumors in the media about what is actually going on here with the revelation about the children."

"I will file that one with the others," Prime said.

Daniels glanced up, looking at him sharply. "What?"

"I get a copy of your reports every week from the State Department as a courtesy. I thought you would know that," Prime said, amusement creeping into his voice.

"No, I wasn't aware of that," Daniels replied as Lennox smirked and shook his head. "I will bear it in mind," he said shooting a harsh glance at the soldier. He turned and looked at Prime. "The public has a right to know about any changes here including the inclusion of children. They also have a right to know about the refugees."

"And we have a treaty-granted right to privacy," Prowl replied coldly. "Our people do not have to be paraded around for the public. They have suffered enough."

"Then you will have to bear the consequences of public opinion without having a hand in the formulation of the facts."

"Why do you care?" Ironhide interjected. "You're the one marshalling public opinion against us, you and your owner, Nast."

It was silent a moment, then Daniels closed his notebook. "I am assuming that this meeting is over?"

"You can assume whatever you wish, Mr. Daniels," Prime said.

The room was silent and then Daniels arose, walked to the ladder and climbed downward. He walked to the door and left, the atmosphere lifting as he did. Lennox, Graham and Epps watched him go, then turned looking at Prime for a moment. Then Lennox leaned forward. "I have a few questions if you don't mind."

Prime smiled slightly. "Ask them, William. I can always refuse."

Lennox grinned.

=0=Several minutes later

They stood in the doorway watching the younglings playing. The four were kneeling on the floor, heads bent together building with blocks under the watchful eyes of four Autobots. Sideswipe, Bumblebee, Hound and Trailbreaker were handing them requested blocks, answering design questions and generally being available, the looks of satisfaction and amusement on their faceplates warming to see.

Lennox looked up getting a nod, then stepped in walking to where the group were sitting on the floor. They paused and looked at him, this strange short alien, then Prime and the others. Spirit moved toward T-Bar leaning against him, fear clearly on his face as he looked at the human who was only just a bit taller than he was. He looked at Prime, saw his smile and then relaxed staring at Lennox with unblinking optics. Looking at his brother, he turned back to Lennox, then held out a block with hesitation.

Lennox smiling took the block and looked at the building they were designing. He walked up and hefted it into place, looking at the children who smiled at him. He smiled back unaware that he had just finished a gun turret on a corner of the fortress of Autobot City on Mars.

As the soldiers met the children, Autobots were already tracking the photos of the children back to the source.

=0=

 

#85: Throw Down

 

=0=On the command deck

Jazz turned frowning. He looked at Prime who was sitting nearby irritated. Jazz rose and walked to him pulling out a chair to sit. "It would appear that they didn't go out on the internet this time, Prime. None of the usual routes were used."

"Then they might be aware that we're on to them. I want this tracked down. We need to know who is the mule or if they are utilizing some transport function to send things away. The last thing we need is for more information on the younglings to get out," Prime said. "What kind of activity is happening around Nast and Intel-Martin?"

"A number of messages between 'High Flyer' and Nast. He wants 'the package' and Flyer is fixin' to deliver."

Prime paused a moment. "Put Autobot City on high alert. I don't think they know where Springer and Arcee are but I don't want to take any chances. I don't want the Mole to succeed."

Jazz nodded. "When are we goin' to pull him out of his hole?"

"Not just yet," Prime said. "He's our direct line to Starscream." He paused as he considered a few things. "I think it might be a good time to feed him some false information and see if we can hit them back."

Jazz nodded, smiling without humor. "Sounds good to me."

=0=Autobot City, Mars

Springer walked through the hub on the way to the Ops Center. He had gotten the word to raise the threat level to high. Obviously, Prime felt there was a potential for attack. He walked past the refugees, many of them now working at some task in the facility 'earning their keep' as the older ones mentioned from time to time. He reassured them but they insisted on being useful.

Pausing at the stairs to let a femme and sparkling pass, he took them three at a time and was in the Ops Center in no time. He had organized his defense and the crews were in place. After alerting the refugees to the upcoming drills, Springer sat down at the command console and began to direct the first drill involving live ammunition, the turret guns and other defenses that would protect them in the matter of an attack.

When they were finished, they would exceed expectations by many degrees. If your life was threatened and you were protecting your family and friends, you would be pretty slaggin' accurate too he thought as he commed his teams and they began all over again.

=0=Nast

He smiled and relaxed in his chair. He had gotten an email that his desired objects would be delivered to him at a warehouse in Oregon. The kicker of the whole thing was he was expected to show up himself and take custody. High Flyer would be there and he wished to meet Nast face-to-face. It would be a good thing to meet someone who shared his values and outlook he thought.

He had phoned his Field Ops director, Thomas Jaspers and he would get the team and equipment together to take the 'objects' back to Texas where his techs would be waiting. He would have the femme, Arcee and the mech, Springer. High Flyer seemed especially glad to be able to deliver Springer for reasons Nast couldn't quite understand but he didn't care. He would have two Autobots, their weapons systems, their advanced communications and self-repair capabilities. He would have their armor and their CPUs. The potential for earning by engineering products and weapons from all of this was staggering.

He leaned back in his chair, put up his feet and lit his Columbian cigar. Picking up a whiskey and soda, he sipped it and calculated the influence on the world he would have soon. He would be the most powerful man on Earth. He smiled and relaxed, the sun setting on the horizon casting long shadows on his office floor.

=0=Ratchet

He stood in the rec room considering the request. It was a nice holiday for the humans but it was without counterpart in Cybertronian culture. Christmas. A Christmas tree. The presents part had resonance. Giving gifts was a way to build familial and friendship ties. Religion was a forbidden topic to discuss with the humans. It was deeply personal for everyone. Religious holidays were specific and none of them revolved around anything more than a salute to Primus, his defeat of Unicron and the sincere hope that it stayed that way.

Lennox, Epps and Graham had assured him that the Christmas season had as much to do with religion as a person wanted and that the 'pretty' side was what a lot of people appreciated beyond the events it grew out of. 'You have kids now, Ratchet. Everyone is going to be celebrating Christmas. Maybe we can get a tree and decorations for your kids. They can have something pretty around to look at,' he had said.

A quick chat with Optimus who having seen Christmas trees before led to his agreement for the youngling's sake. Ratchet had too and it still seemed incomprehensible to cut down a perfectly good tree, decorate and light it, then put it in a prominent place in your domicile to shed needles before being thrown away in the trash. Odd, humans. Then he nodded back to Prime and let the soldiers know that the idea for the younglings was a good thing.

It would be Ratchet thought. They could use pretty and fun, joy and laughter. Their reticence and fearfulness was dropping a few degrees but they were still delicate and needed lots of the right attention. Watching Sideswipe and Bluestreak walk past, Blue carrying Silverbow and Sideswipe with Spirit, he smiled. Attention the younglings would get.

Now how do you get a Christmas tree? He started out toward the N.E.S.T. HQ to ask.

=0=Nast

He cleared his week making sure that the night of December 21st was open. That would be when he would pick up his 'artifacts'. Jaspers would have a four man team ready and two trucks to carry both away. He would be there in the ubiquitous black SUV that the company had in spades.

He would meet with High Flyer, take stock of him and maybe even find out how he had an inside track with the Decepticons. He felt good, better than good and in a few days he would be on his way to mastery of his own universe with more money and power than he could use. Such problems were good he thought walking down the hallway of his office building. Good, indeed.

=0=At the N.E.S.T. HQ

Ratchet knocked on the door, bending down to peer into the windows. A gaggle of femmes inside looked up to see him and a lot of high pitched squeeing followed. Raising back up, stepping back as the door opened and three air force and an army woman stepped out, Ratchet grinned.

"Hi, Ratchet. What can we do for you?" they asked.

He looked down blinking his optics. "I was looking for Captain Lennox, Sargent Epps and/or Lieutenant Graham."

They looked at each other, then back up again. "They're in meetings."

"I see," Ratchet said.

"How can we help you?" an air force woman said.

"Well … I," Ratchet began with a sense of foreboding.

=0=A couple of joors later

They had brought things in, a few boxes and an artificial Christmas tree on the back of a hummer. Ratchet following and feeling that things had gotten waaaay out of hand shook his head. They had swarmed, overpowering him and by the time he was finished counting his digits they were on their way. They paused at the door of the main hangar entrance looking up. "Where to, Ratchet?"

He looked down and then up wishing he could sigh. It was such a nice reflex he thought. So much more so than another reflex he had seen earlier that gave him the whillies, spitting. "Follow me," he said resigned to his fate.

And so the hummer followed Ratchet as he went into the hangar, driving around the tables and down a corridor, heading for the room that was reserved for younglings, the same ones that were displayed on half the gossip websites, television shows and newspapers of the whole fraggin' world.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They had debugged the system and the outer relay sensor array had come on line, sending information to both Teletraan II and its sister, Teletraan III. Prime had informed Springer that the effort by Starscream to deliver Arcee and him to Nast was go again. His irritation was only exceeded by his efficiency now that the fortress had civilian refugees including three sparklings.

He would work hard and Starscream would make a mistake. He didn't intend to be the one who would falter. Arcee for her part was advocating for the femmes, all four of them becoming a united group. He and Arcee were to stay on Mars and hunker down. The intel was coming in slowly but the goal was not changing. Nast wanted Arcee and him on a slab with faceless sparkless technicians slicing off parts of both of them. Fraggers, he thought. It would never happen.

=0=Younglings' play room

The soldier femmes had stood in the doorway looking at the four younglings, their faces filled with excitement over seeing them upclose and personal. Ratchet entered and the younglings paused looking at him, then the humans. Silverbow and Spirit rose swiftly, walking to Sideswipe and Bluestreak who had returned to the room to sit with the other two younglings. They slipped their arms around Sideswipe, sitting on his lap as they looked at the humans, their little blue optics unblinking. The other two were less fearful but reticent none the less.

"We have a surprise from the humans," Ratchet said moving inside to kneel down. "I don't know how to do this but these soldier femmes are going to do it then show you," he said in their language.

The younglings looked at him and then sat back watching with wary optics as the cheerful femmes of the United States Armed Forces began to assemble a Christmas tree in the corner. By the time the balls and lights were strung the younglings were creeping closer looking at the pretty lights and ornaments with fascination.

One of the femmes, a corporal named Jessie Landen turned and paused holding out a handful of tinsel to Silverbow. She stared at Jessie then the tinsel, tentatively reaching out for it at last. She took it then ran back to stand behind Bluestreak holding the silver tinsel as she looked at the soldiers. They waited smiling, then turned and began to put some more on the tree.

When the tree was all trimmed, the soldiers hugged, thanked and gone away only then did Silverbow walk to the tree and very carefully, one long strand at a time place it on the bows of the tree.

Ratchet and the others watched, emotion diminishing conversation as they watched the tiny femme place each piece of tinsel just so.

=0=Jazz, later that afternoon

He walked to the conference room for the update briefing for Senior Autobots and entered sitting down to hand out datapads with the latest intel. The operation was go and Nast was making preparations. They would use a jet to take the 'packages' to Texas from a pick up spot in Oregon. A team of four of his 'best operatives' would be run by the Field Ops general himself, Tom Jaspers.

They sat and discussed the intel for an joor and then broke, following Ratchet to the younglings' play room. Entering, they stood and looked emotion rising in their processors. The four little younglings were sitting in a circle around the Christmas tree looking with bright optics at the pretty lights and decorations in the darkened room, touching them, watching them spin colorfully. Behind them sitting together were a dozen off duty Autobots watching the children's delight with the same emotion.

Prime reached out and squeezed Prowl's servo. Neither trusted themselves to do anything more.

=0=

 

#86: The Mole, Part Two

 

=0=Diego Garcia

He walked from his barracks strolling with a newspaper from home in his hand. He had read it in the mess hall and found it interesting. His high school football team was on their way to the state championship playoffs, his hometown was getting money to rebuild the bridge that traversed the river out by his uncle's farm and the Autobot's children were a topic on everyone's mind.

That he was the one responsible for the children being common knowledge, something the Autobots were working hard to prevent didn't bother him. He was just doing his job. For Nast.

The Intel-Martin C.E.O. had suggested that they change up some of their routings and when Todd had requested a change of assignment he had given the packet of photos and observations to Todd to carry out with him. He said it was a resume. The only reason that Todd didn't chuck it was Nast had asked him to bring it to him personally. So he did.

Nast had disseminated it throughout the media by contacts cultivated and purchased through years of effort. The children were speculated upon by people all over the world who only had a peripheral sense of who and what the Cybertronians actually were. Images circulated on the internet, youtube hosting channels with blurred video that often were taken down by order of the Department of Defense and images from cell phones that showed very indistinct giant colorful robots usually shooting things up. There was only one blurred image of Optimus Prime and that disappeared on the day it hit the internet.

What people didn't know was that the Autobots had a roving spider finding the images and taking down any of Optimus and all that were clear enough to detect much detail. The release of the pictures of the younglings to widespread viewership was something that no one could put back into the bottle.

His colleagues were furious, especially the special ops from N.E.S.T. who knew the Autobots best. Listening to them speculate that someone on base was a spy sent a chill down his spine and he worked to be extra careful. He was afraid of what they would do to him if he made a mistake and was uncovered. He would have to be sneakier than he was now.

What he didn't know was that the Autobots already knew and were doubling down on him as he walked unaware and at relative ease. He walked into the office where he worked and greeted the three Army and one Air Force women who promptly told him about the Christmas tree that they had set up for the 'adorable little kids' in the Autobot HQ.

=0=December 21st, early morning

They left on Cosmos disappearing in the darkened skies without drawing attention. They had walked to the ship in ones and twos, their gear stowed on Cosmos over a period of days. Jazz, Mirage, Sideswipe, Ironhide, Hound and Optimus were gone, flying away to a rendezvous with Nast.

He had bought their story that High Flyer had procured Arcee and Springer and would bring them to a warehouse in Oregon for him to pick up. He had bought the invitation to come in person to meet High Flyer, to discuss future projects and his ties to the Decepticons who High Flyer had intimated were responsible for his bounty.

The  
Autobots led by Jazz had blocked any of these communications from going to High Flyer who would not know this event was occurring. They rerouted Nast's emails in and out of Teletraan II, ghosting replies to the two messages High Flyer had intended for him to get so Starscream would not know they were attempting to nail his puppet.

Optimus sat on Cosmos comm linked to Diego and Prowl discussing the arrangements for their 'guest' when they returned. He asked for status on Autobot City and felt a swell of pride in the results of the munitions testing and the organization Springer had instituted. He commed off and relaxed aware that Nast had no idea of the firepower he was going to face and that they would have a possible 'ally' into the next phase of Optimus' thinking … the capture or death of Starscream.

At this point with the number of sparks depending on sanctuary both at Autobot City and beyond in the galaxy he was willing to entertain the later.

=0=Rogue Valley, Oregon

They had arrived the night before scouting the warehouse, then settling into a motel in the nearby town of Central Point. The warehouse was just a short hop from the Rogue Valley International Medford Airport and they had arranged their trucks and routes accordingly. He could see why High Flyer chose the area. It had enough of what they needed without being too urban to be a problem.

The area they were operating within had open spaces scattered among businesses and big box stores. It was perfect for a hand off. There was very little activity beyond Crater Lake Highway and a few roads used by trucks to skirt traffic once darkness set in. The warehouse was part of several next to Central Point Software and was surrounded by a chain link fence. The gates were open during the day and closed at night, the time the pickup would be made. No problem, Nast and Jaspers considered. It was otherwise relatively lightly secured.

Turning to walk back to their SUV, the two men drove into Medford and had lunch at the Far East Restaurant unaware that they were being followed by a jeep and a Bentley Continental, their holographic drivers intent upon their asses.

=0=Central Point, Oregon, T-minus four joors

They parked in the lot of the Rogue Valley Fairgrounds, scattered here and there as they waited for nightfall. Cosmos had let them out in a field south of Ashland, the dirt road that cut it in two leading them to Interstate 5 and the short eighteen mile drive to Medford. The warehouse they had arranged was innocuous and secure enough to funnel the enemy inside so they could be more easily subdued. Nights in the area this time of year were very dark so they would be able conclude their business without much fuss once they neutralized the lighting both inside and outside of the warehouse. Of course, two of them would already be parked inside cutting the odds even more in their favor.

Nast and Jaspers' plane was due to land in two joors so they broke up, Sideswipe and Jazz rolling to the warehouse to wait inside. Ironhide and Prime would maintain surveillance of the warehouse from posts nearby as Mirage and Hound followed the enemy during the downtime leading to the night incursion before Mirage would become the bait car.

All it took now was patience.

=0=Diego Garcia

The mole finished work walking toward the flight line to get the cricks out of his legs. The planes fascinated him, the real ones and the Autobots. The Aerialbots that had been missing had just arrived, transforming to walk to the piece of land beyond that the others had claimed as their own. It had been an awesome sight to watch, three gigantic robotic entities walking together with excitement toward the tie-down where two others waited, one of them transformed and waving to show them where they were. It was odd to see something familiar, friends excitedly greeting friends among such different creatures.

The normal flights were going in and out, the big bombers sat nearby, their wings sagging at rest and Cosmos was gone. He wondered where the shuttle had gone, perhaps to the Oort Field to do sensor work. He often did that and it amazed him that Cosmos could go to the edge of the solar system, to the fucking solar well and back again in less than half a day. That was past Pluto he thought shaking his heads.

He turned and walked back stretched, relaxed and filled with admiration of the entities among them. As he passed the Autobot HQ he saw a very small Autobot standing in the doorway peering out. It was small, white and red and had a little Autobot insignia on his shoulder. He stared at the mole looking at him intently, then stepped back shyly into the shadows. Big hands reached down and picked him up and he disappeared into the hangar looking over an Autobot's shoulder, watching him as he watched the child. He stood and stared, wishing he could come inside, then he turned and walked on.

The irony of the moment and his actions was completely lost upon him as he did.

=0=Oregon, at T-2 breems

The sky was dark overhead, the kind of velvety black that only Northwestern skies could muster. The SUV bearing Nast and Jaspers along with two of their four hired guns drove toward the warehouse along the road that ran parallel to it. They drove past it, moving onward, peering at it with night vision glasses. No one was moving and it seemed calm and normal. Then a car shot past them going in the other direction, heading toward the warehouse and turning into it. The gate of the fence moved, motivated by an electronic switch most likely held by the driver of the vehicle.

They turned and rolled up pausing by the road that led to the warehouse, watching as a late model Bentley Continental drove up to park by it, shadows of the building blocking a clear view.

"What do you think?" Jaspers asked glancing at Nast.

"I think Mr. High Flyer drives a nice car," Nast said smirking. "Let's go. Can't keep our good friend waiting."

Jaspers radioed the other two operatives to sit tight, the trucks they were driving parked farther away on the turn outs on the Medco Haul Road. Nast drove slowly forward, the men behind him slipping the safeties off the handguns they carried. Rolling down the dirt track to the warehouse, they took stock of the area.

Parked to one side, shadows from the smaller outbuildings obscuring it somewhat was a large Peterbilt semi tractor truck. Nearby, a tarp partially obscuring it, a GMC pick up also was parked. The Bentley was parked near the door to the warehouse so they rolled closer, turning the SUV and rolling backwards to park so it would be facing outward in case of problems.

They sat in the SUV a moment, then they all stepped out, the two armed men moving as planned to the warehouse, scouting out the perimeter as Nast and Jaspers stood in the front looking this way and that. Nast pulling out a handgun, slipping the safety walked toward the GMC pick up. With care and skill, he peered under the tarp and into the cab spying nothing out of order. Jaspers checked out the semi, admiring the paint scheme even as it prickled something deep in his mind.

Walking back meeting their two operatives, they then turned and aimed together silencers engaged. Shooting in tandem, they put out the big spotlights that had given the area a decent amount of light. Turning, they walked to the warehouse and entered. Behind them covered in the cloak of darkness, a pick up truck and a semi tractor transformed quietly and unsheathing weapons of their own walked toward a Bentley that was already fading away from view.

=0=Inside at the same time

A big box sat in the middle of an empty warehouse along with a pair of covered shapes that appeared to be cars. A black tarp covered what appeared to be a Lamborghini and a white tarp covered what appeared to be a silver Porsche. Both of them were parked against the back wall well away from the big box in the middle. Nast and Jaspers leaning against the wall sent their two hired guns to scout the situation as they provided cover.

A thorough investigation revealed no one present and they walked together toward the box, a single overhead light the only illumination.

"Where's High Flyer?" Nast asked looking around, his gun held in readiness.

"I don't know," Jaspers said nervous tension in his voice. He turned and walked to the door they had entered, opening it and pausing, frozen to the spot.

A light filtered in, orangish yellow and a hot wave of energy followed it. Nast turned freezing as well as the four of them looked into a cylinder of molten lava. It was leveled at the door, pointing directly at them and at the end of it clenched tightly was an enormous black metallic fist.

Backing away at last, prickly needles of fear informing their entire bodies they staggered toward the middle of the room. As they did the sounds of transformation filled the warehouse as the two covered cars changed. Covers slid off and they rose up, weapons drawn, cold blooded murder on their faceplates. They moved forward, one of them rolling on wheel skates and the other walking silently on metallic feet that looked like they could kick a hole through titanium.

The light caught the two in shadows, the frightening aspect of their expressions and the incredible firepower they wielded blanking the minds of the humans as they turned in a circle jerkily pointing their own inadequate weapons at the two who were advancing and the gigantic cannon filling their only escape route.

Then the warehouse doors began to slide upward, the sound of them grating and intense in the coagulated silence that surrounded them. They turned and stared, seeing the beginnings of feet, then massive blue legs and finally the legs knelt, a face appearing before them, a face from their deepest nightmares.

The door slammed and they looked at it seeing it as their only escape. They ran to it and tugged, unable to pull it open. Then there was another in the growing hangar doorway, a huge black hulking presence followed by a hulking green giant as a third joined them. They moved toward the box and bumped into something. They turned, guns pointed and stared into thin air. Reaching out a shaking hand, Nast felt something metallic and jumped back shouting.

As they stood in a group, backs pressed against the box, a shape solidified in front of them, a tall blue and white Autobot. He knelt peering down into their faces with scorn and disgust clearly on his face. "Boo," he said softly as Optimus Prime and Ironhide stepped inside, the doors slowly falling, sealing off the scene from outside.

=0=

 

#88: “Boo”

 

=0=Ops Center, Diego Garcia

Prowl stood at the communications station listening to the audio of the mission that had gone to Oregon to close a window in their operation. He was profoundly annoyed but only a person well versed in his personna would know that. Door wings arched high, a coiled tension in his posture, he thought briefly of the source of his ire.

The mole was never off their radar now, followed either by optics or sensors day and night. Every single sneeze he made was logged and data miners were detailing every possible communications possibility that he could access.

He was their nemesis and Prowl was on guard. What truly ripped him happened earlier.

Spirit mustering the nerve to peer out of the hangar door had spotted a human passing by. Unattended for just a brief moment as Prowl checked off a datapad handed to him he had moved to the door and looked out. The little mech had met optics with a human who had paused and smiled at him holding his gaze for a moment. Finally, fearfully, he shifted back shyly into the building. Prowl turning to the youngling again noticed that the human Spirit was watching was the mole who had made public knowledge of Spirit's presence among them, thereby raising the danger factor for his safety exponentially.

Turning, quickly picking him up Prowl retreated to the youngling room as fast as he could. It still rankled him greatly and he would tell Optimus about it when the team came back with their prize. He had no doubts that they would. But he would hold the moment in abeyannce, allowing the team to focus on the master even as he wanted to find the apprentice and rend him limb from limb.

=0=A warehouse in Oregon

They stood in front of the box, arms pointed upward as the six gigantic monsters moved closer, their own weapons pointed and aimed at them. Nast gasping for air in his fright stepped to the side and turned pointing his gun at Hound. He fired emptying his clip into Hound's chassis, the bullets bouncing off, landing here and there, some of them at Nast's feet, gouging holes in the concrete.

No one spoke, the six pairs of blue optics watching as the humans milled around each other trying to find something to save them from what the Autobots knew they believed was a slow horrible death. Finally, one of the hired guns tossed his weapon down and raised his hands stepping forward uncertainly.

"I surrender! Don't shoot me!" he cried as a big hand reached down and grabbed him.

Jazz holding him high gazed downward, his weapon coming closer. "Drop your guns or I'll make sure you don't have a home to go to ever again."

The three looked at him and the others, then threw their guns down, the weapons skittering toward Ironhide. He picked them up and pinched them between his fingers dropping them at the feet of the three men who looked at them with disbelief.

Jazz set the man he was holding down on the box, then picked up the others placing them on the lid as well. Optimus Prime watching without a word moved closer and knelt staring at them silently, his anger clear, his affect menacing.

Nast gathering himself together cleared his dry throat and swallowed hard. "I am William Nast of Intel-Martin."

Optimus nodded leaning even closer to Nast. "We know," he said, his deep baritone filled with darkness. "I am Optimus Prime."

Nast closed his eyes and exhaled, a soft keening sound coming from deep inside.

=0=Starscream

He sat on the bluff nearby their ship, the crashed Nemesis no more comfortable than the stones and dirt he sat upon. Nast had wanted Springer and Arcee even more than before and he had decided to give them to him. He had to locate them and so he leaned upon the mole, the treacherous human that was playing Nast and him off against one another. Of course, the pitiful insect didn't know he was aware of that. The insect Daniels wasn't aware that his 'billionaire ideological' friend was a Decepticon either and he would use both of them to find his prey.

He was also aware that Nast knew he, High Flyer had ties to the Decepticons. Starscream had dropped enough hints that the dolt finally got it. He knew that Nast found proximity to that much danger a drug. 'Danger junkies' the insects called that kind of personality. 'Useful idiot' was what Starscream called them.

He had sent a message to the board thereby getting word to the mole that he wanted the location of Arcee and Springer. He wanted them for Nast to seal the deal, to make him so tainted that he couldn't possibly give up on the gravy train or if caught get a deal that could be less worse than facing Starscream's wrath.

His mind was still hazy and Springer, Optimus Prime's bondmate, his whore was still an obsession that wouldn't go away. He had wanted to give Springer back with a present for Prime but giving him to Nast to be carved into bits and pieces wasn't a bad idea either. Both would be fine, the attainable one would be sufficient over the preferred one.

Thundercracker and Sky Warp perched on a rocky outcropping nearby watched Starscream with concern, exchanging glances as they waited. His obsessions were becoming troublesome and the nearness to the truth each interface allowed was also troublesome. Their firewalls were being questioned and it was almost a relief that the obsession with Prime was so diverting. It kept Starscream that much farther than finding out the truth. They dreaded the orn he did.

=0=Oregon

"What do you want?"

The question hung in silence as they stared at the Autobots who stood towering over them with expressions ranging from grim disgust to homicidal rage. One of them, a red bot with psychotic eyes rolled slowly in a circle, his eyes never leaving them as his sheathed and unsheathed his swords.

The blue and white one was standing to one side looking at them as if they were the lowest form of life he had ever encountered. A smaller bot, the silver one who had picked them up was beside him, his hand resting on the snob's shoulder. It was hard to see the face of the big monster before them, a solid black creature with enormous cannons and a head with spires like satanic horns topping it. His eyes could drop a charging bull with a single glance Nast thought in a rare lucid moment.

The green bot, tall and stoic stood behind their leader his optics fixed on the four even as he trained his weapons to follow their every movement. Their leader studied them, allowing them to stew in their juices, then he leaned forward again. "You have been a very, very bad boy, Mr. Nast. We have been following you since the beginning, watching your every move, your contacts with High Flyer, your treason."

Nast swallowed. "I … if you let me explain..."

"We shall," Optimus said rising once again. "Back at Diego Garcia." He turned and nodded at Jazz who moved toward them. The last thing Nast could remember seeing clearly was four steel fingers reaching down and grasping him tightly.

=0=Ops Center, Diego Garcia

Prowl commed confirmation back, then stepped away giving the conn to Ratchet who was sitting at Teletraan II. Walking out of the command center, turning left and moving toward the officer's quarters corridor he reached his own and opened the door quietly. Sitting on a chair reading a novel, First Aid glanced up smiling. He nodded at the oversized berth where three little mechs were in recharge, a soft blanket covering them as they lay together arms around each other.

Prowl smiled back and walked to them leaning down to fuss with their blanket. He kissed Rambler's helm, then turned pausing beside First Aid. "They're coming back with the prisoners. I don't know when I can be back but I can have Blue relieve you, First Aid."

"I'm fine, Prowl. I don't mind." First Aid looked at the younglings, the first ones this small he had ever seen in his life. "I enjoy them."

Prowl smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "So do I," he said turning to look at them fondly. Then he turned again, nodding to First Aid and left the room walking back to Ops Center again.

=0=On the way

They had bundled the prisoners into the box and loaded it onto Prime's trailer. Driving out slowly, leaving a few nanokliks apart they drove back to the field outside of Ashland for pickup. Cosmos set down and they transformed, pulling the wooden box out of Prime's trailer, the big truck transforming himself and climbing aboard. Taking off slowly Cosmos cleared the atmosphere roaring into a higher altitude that would allow him to drop into Diego Garcia without wasted time.

By the time he had landed a Black GMC pick up truck rolled out of Cosmos' hold, a tarp covering its bed. Optimus Prime, Hound, Mirage, Sideswipe and Jazz followed spread out over two breems and walked to the HQ as if it were any other day.

=0=Later on that morning

Graham and Epps were jogging to the obstacle course intending to work out before the heat settled in. They would be going home for Christmas break, a period that would extend into January, a full thirty day leave. They would be on call of course and their families knew that they would be. But they would be together for Christmas and New Years, a bittersweet thing. They loved their comrades and enjoyed their company. Seeing in the New Years with the Autobots was a great occasion and they already missed it.

Jogging onward, prepared already for Cosmos to drop them off at Vandenburg Air Base so they could be home swifter and longer they passed the HQ without a clue.

=0=Prime

He entered the command deck smiling at Prowl who rose and walked to him, both embracing each other. Prime warmed from helm to ped looked down getting the executive version from his bond. They then turned, the command assumed by Jazz who had followed them in, smiling at the sight of two of the most aggregiously dedicated and self denying bots he had ever known indulging in a little bit of PDA.

They walked to their quarters entering quietly, nodding to First Aid who was working on his third novel. Walking to the berth, Prime smiled down at the three little younglings cuddled together. Prowl leaned against him smiling at the mechs with a soft expression. Prime glancing at Prowl thought back to the bluff on Mars and the sad tale of Bluestreak.

Prowl had been traumatized by the fall of Praxus as had Ironhide but they seldom if ever talked about it. The horror of their city falling into ashes was something all the Autobots could recount. They all had the same story but not everyone had been back to their homes, sifting through the dead on familiar streets for anything at all that might live.

Seeing Bluestreak wandering shocked and bleeding, frightened out of his own self awareness for some time after, that had been severe. Bluestreak was his youngling now, the only survivor of an entire city once filled with life, learning, beauty and people. A smoldering crater in the ground, a smoldering memory in his mind, Prowl had saved himself by saving Bluestreak. And now here with these three mechs he was doing it again. Prime knew that they would raise the mechs, that Prowl would be as tireless and protective with them as he was with Bluestreak. It was fine with him. Someone had to take them in and give them hope and happiness once more. There were five more orphans at Autobot City that needed someone and he would have to make sure they got someone to love and care for them and their special condition. Having these mechs and the femme here would make that easier to do. The Autobots loved these little ones deeply.

He smiled as Prowl took Rambler's servo and tucked it under the covering. Then together they walked to the door thanking First Aid quietly and exited walking back to the matters at hand once more.

=0=In the brig

They sat in separate cells, bars of energy preventing them from even thinking of escaping. Red Alert weapon in hand, sitting on a bench in front of them watched them with only an intensity that he could provide. Inferno standing nearby with his weapon in full display followed his Prime's orders.

"Scare them to death, Inferno."

Prime had said that to him and he had nodded only too glad to oblige. These were the turborats that were harassing the younglings, marshalling the public against them everywhere they could and these were the fraggers that wanted to carve up Springer and Arcee.

Over his dead chassis Inferno said to himself, his anger clearly displayed in all its horrifying glory. The two stood and sat watching the humans squirm as they awaited their Prime once more.

=0=

 

#89: “SUNSTREAKER! YOU FRAGGER!”

 

=0=Diego Garcia

The day drifted by, the soldiers leaving for their break coming to say adieu. Cosmos was taking them to Vandenburg and a couple of other bases that were close to their actual homes to cut down on the drive time. There were N.E.S.T. soldiers about but they weren't the first string, most of whom were survivors of the base attack by Blackout a few years back.

No one could imagine that the Autobots had prisoners in their brig and without their permission to enter or a disclosure on the Autobot's part no one ever would. Prime followed by Jazz and Ironhide walked to the brig nodding to the jailers and turned pausing before the cells. Inside, sitting on the ground in utter fear and dejection Nast and his party waited.

They stirred arising slowly and fearfully, the enormity of their situation dawning upon them. They were in the hands of a different and completely alien point of view. They had no idea that these robotic entities could understand that they were fragile and easily killed. They wouldn't know that they had rights and protections because they were American, human and this was **their** planet filled with their **own** kind.

What if these aliens used summary execution and no one would ever find out what happened to them? What if they handed them over to their other colleagues and they were used for weird alien experiments? All of the most haunting scenes of every alien movie they had ever seen had passed through their minds collecting in their guts to make short work of their personal courage, self-image and egos. They were at the mercy of machines, constructs like their computers, cars and microwaves. How could anyone hope to believe that such things could have souls, empathy and the ability to understand how much they could hurt another being? How much 'other' were these creatures?

It all crossed their minds that they were in the custody of individuals that might not have the capacity to think about the differences between right and wrong any more than a car could when the driver runs a red light. There might not be any sort of reflection, no moral capacity nor any hope of coming out of this in one piece. That they themselves didn't accord anything close to the same to their own numerous victims didn't enter their minds once.

Prime could see the emotions, could almost follow their thinking line by line. Leaving them in the brig alone guarded by two of the most intense Autobots in the garrison was part of the strategy that he was going to be using to get what he wanted in the end, Starscream. Cut off the head of the snake, the body dies. A wise thought the humans were wont to say. So true he thought as he stood looking at them.

Moving closer, looking down from his great height he considered them. One of them, a hired gun stepped forward pausing. "I'm just a hired hand. I didn't have a say in what they were doing. I'm just a worker. I would like to know what you want to know. I might be able to help you."

Nast looked at his employee, fury forming on his face. He turned and clenched his hands. "Traitor!"

Ironhide snorted. "That's amusing. We were sort of thinking that about you, Nast."

Nast glancing sharply at Ironhide stepped back bumping into the cell's bench as he did. They looked at each other, Autobot and human, then Prime nodded to Red Alert, the Autobot reluctantly releasing the bars. Prime bending down slowly, his hand reaching out gripped Jaspers and rose up again stepping back so the bars could be reactivated. Turning without a sound, he walked out with the others and his prize leaving the rest of them to listen to the screams of Jaspers until they died away.

Inferno retrieving his place against the wall once more stared at them without mercy as the silence enveloped them again.

=0=Ratchet

He worked in Ops Center as the drama in the brig continued. Ironhide had filled him in with their usual shorthand as he continued with Optimus toward the ultimate goal: Starscream. It was nearly Christmas and here they were sitting around figuring out how to make life better against the tide.

He had hit the internet to figure out what it was all about in more detail and considered that he liked it, the multi-layered concept of joyous materialism and solemn religiosity an interesting blend of the sacred and the profane. He was no slouch in the profane department. He had after all first met Ironhide in a bar. He of course had been terribly smitten. Ratchet smiled and remembered …

"So, Ratchet, how about a drink after shift?" he had asked leaning in the doorway, shiny and handsome and dashing and intensely masculine.

Ratchet lounging in his office after a long day of fixing up shiny, handsome, dashing and intensely masculine mechs who didn't seem to grasp the concept of ducking was smitten even more though he had refused a drink the night before in a bar after being introduced by a drunken mutual friend with tentacle digits. Laying the friend out had taken no time but it had impressed the big mech with the bluest optics Ratchet had ever seen a great deal. Intrigued though he was, Ratchet couldn't let the big lug know too much. What would be the fun in that? "Sure."

Ironhide, a satisfied smirk on his faceplates and a swagger in his rather intriguingly awesome aft turned on his peds and left. Ratchet no slouch in the looks department himself given the number of mechs that hit on his yellow chassis with almost comical regularity smirked. "See how much **you** swagger when **I** get through with you, Ironhide."

He sat back closing his eyes in fatigue and considered the big black mech who just happened to turn up everywhere he went after the bar scene. He was even sure if he opened the cooler he would see big blue handsome optics leering out at him. Ratchet liked him, liked his big format, his funny sense of humor and even his designation.

Iron. Hide.

He surely had it. Lord knows his colleagues had put it back together enough times. He had once himself. It was hard to have distance when you're face down inside a big chassis, the servos of said chassis caressing your aft. Even the threat of a rap on the helm with a hammer couldn't swerve the aforementioned mech from his eternal fondles.

Ratchet had shined himself up at the hospital shower racks and was walking to the entrance when he saw Ironhide standing in the doorway haloed by the light, waiting for him as he said he would. Ratchet felt his spark tug, then he gathered himself together pausing and looking up at his date. "So what brings you here, big boy?"

"Good lookin' mechs," Ironhide said slipping his arm around Ratchet and applying his hand to Ratchet's back for the first time ever.

"You look for dates at **hospitals**?" Ratchet asked chuckling and finding a gentlemenly touch a nice change of pace for once.

"Never know what will crawl out. Literally," Ironhide said chuckling.

They went to a nice club, drank a lot of high grade and danced. Ironhide couldn't, Ratchet was a whiz. Somewhere in the middle Ratchet fell in love and never left. However that didn't mean he wouldn't make Ironhide work for his reward. Ratchet didn't put out on the first date. What was there to do on the second one if you did he thought with a chuckle as they swayed and sashayed their way out into the dark night of Iacon.

Ironhide seduced by Ratchet from first glance gripped him around the waist as they both walked down the empty street. Behind them, the sound of laughter, chatter and music faded. They were both drunk and feeling no pain, the idea of making it to the Citadel where both were stationed on peds alone looking daunting.

Ironhide paused looking this way and that for transport. There was none. He turned and looked at Ratchet who was swaying and grinning at him. "You look beautiful."

"You're pretty cute yourself," Ratchet managed before they launched themselves at each other. Staggering backward into an alley, necking furiously, they fell to the ground rolling repeatedly. Then they gave in to drink and fell into a stuporous recharge.

The next day the sound of garbage collection drones woke them up and they walked to the Citadel to start a new day. It would be a longer chase this time but in the end they would both give in.

Ratchet's way.

=0=Sideswipe and Bluestreak

They sat together in the lounge off the rec room, peds up on the table before them as Bluestreak snuggled against Sideswipe's chassis. "Sunstreaker is aware you're with me." He grinned and pulled Blue closer.

"You and your bond," Bluestreak said looking up at Sideswipe. "Tell him hi for me."

Sideswipe paused a moment and chuckled. "You don't want to hear what he replied."

Blue grinned and snuggled closer watching the mechs in the rec room beyond.

=0=Ironhide v Ratchet

"You're kidding."

Ratchet could remember the exact words and expression on Ironhide's face as he laid down his terms as well as the wrench he had used to tighten the last bolt on Ironhide's knee assembly.

"Nope."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet considering the challenge in his optics, the smirk on his face and the incredible attraction of his yellow aft. "You're on."

"You're finished," Ratchet said glancing over his shoulder. " **NEXT FOOL**!"

Ironhide hopped down skirting Ratchet and as the medico turned back to the berth to clean up Ironhide gave him a sound slap on his yellow aft.

Ratchet turning shook his head and the tools in his hand. "You'll have to do better than that," Ratchet said smirking. "You aren't the only mech out there."

Ironhide knowing the truth of that smirked. "But **I'm** the one who is going to land you, ya big yellow aft."

"Don't try and sweet talk me, Ironhide," Ratchet said laughing.

"Tonight. I'll come and get ya," Ironhide said turning to walk to the door with an excess of satisfaction in his step. Ratchet watched him go and smiled. Tonight was going to be fun.

Ironhide clearing the door casually hurried to the medical library annex down the corridor and pulled a cable out of his wrist. Plugging in, he searched the database and pulled up relevent files, books, treatises and entertainment videos as he brushed up on his technique for the evening.

/… audition for ya, ya slagger … **I** don't have to audition … when I 'face someone they **stay** 'faced … frag, **that's** a good one …/

He downloaded that one and several others, then headed for the mech's club down the street to get a wash, a wax and a detailing for the only mech he would ever demean himself enough to woo to this degree of humiliation.

Ratchet the awesome he thought. Ratchet the one who by Primus was going to be his. For Ratchet the Beautiful, Ironhide would suffer.

=0=Bluestreak and Sideswipe

They sat on the couch necking, talking quietly and enjoying the company of the other. Winding down with someone was a good thing Sideswipe thought smirking. :… right, Sunny? …:

: **Frag you** , Sideswipe! I'll kick your **aft**! I'll **tear your aft off** and **shove it down your throat**!:

That was when Sideswipe tamped down the twin bond preferring to give all the attention he had to Bluestreak and his amazing lips.

=0=Ratchet and Ironhide

He stood in the doorway of the hospital shined, spiffed and ready to rumble. Ironhide arrived at about the same time as shiny as a new penny himself. They stood and admired their reflection in the other's chassis, having a good joke about how slippery it was going to be shortly, then they walked off together on the first day of the great adventure that was going to be Ratchet v Ironhide.

=0=Lounge

A rap on the wall interrupted their moment and they looked up, then straightened up quickly. Prowl standing in the doorway with a severe expression on his face shook his head. "No intimacy for three decaorns."

Bluestreak nodded glancing at a shame-faced Sideswipe. Prowl turned to go, then paused turning around smirking. "You might thank Sunstreaker for me knowing about you two." Then he turned and left, a soft chuckle trailing behind.

Bluestreak smiling in spite of himself looked at Sideswipe who had an expression of utter surprise on his face. Then he paused looking distant as he opened up the twin bond again. :Sunstreaker! **YOU FRAGGER**!:

Bluestreak just sat back anticipating the entertainment value of their endless moments some day soon when he would be able to hear it too.

=0=Prime

He walked into the conference room and set Jaspers on the table, one of the soldier's chairs catching him as he shrank back. Prime, Ironhide, Jazz, Prowl and Springer were facing him, Springer coming in from Autobot City for the interrogation. They stood and stared down at the human, himself almost insignificant in comparison. "Mr. Jaspers, I want to know what you know. And I need you to make sure you don't leave out a thing."

Jaspers stared at Prime, his mind in a jumble, then he decided to throw himself on the mercy of the truth. He sat back, gathered his thoughts and began to spill his guts, Nast be damned.

By the time he was finished it was clear that Nast probably would be.

=0=

 

#90: Spill

 

=0=Earlier

They sat at a table in the rec room together, servos in laps, little blue optics following everything silently. Around them sat many of the off duty mechs enjoying the company of the younglings, some of them for the first time in their lives since their own younglinghood. Bluestreak and Sideswipe directed by Ratchet mixed the energon formula that the little ones were going to be on for a while to ease their stressed underdeveloped chassises back into shape for regular energon.

Silverbow watching Hound as Trailblazer held her cup was as silent as ever. The two of them found she loved her little cup, sleeping with it as she recharged between them. It was probably the first personal possession she ever had. It was yellow, had her name on it in Cybertronian glyphs and was designed and gifted to her by Sunstreaker before she left for Earth. All of the mechs present were watching carefully as Ratchet explained how their food would work for a while.

They each received their cups filled with the special formula, the three little mechs and the femme. Then the difficult part began. Hound and Trailbreaker nervously stood behind Silverbow, Hound kneeling to encourage her as she took dainty sips with long pauses between. She was still suffering from deprivation and the newer belief that someone would take her cup away from her. Hound arose and looked worriedly at Ratchet. "Why is she not drinking more? She's so little and ... she's ... I would think she was hungry."

Ratchet took them aside. "She's been without for so long that she can't believe she can have what she's got. She also isn't entirely well. I put supplements in the energon for the minerals and metals that they weren't given. I also put something in to soothe assimilation of the energon. They could be harmed if fed too fast or too rich. You have to be patient. There is no right or wrong way here to get them to eat. They **will** eat if we don't make an issue of it."

Hound, his expression stricken leaned into Trailbreaker for a moment before pulling himself together. Turning, he walked to the little femme and knelt down smiling at her as she sipped once more. She smiled back at him scooting slightly toward him in her chair. His expression was incredible as he moved closer to her.

Rambler, T-Bar and Spirit were doing better, Rambler helping his brothers as he sat with them, his servo under their cups as they rested between sips, the effort of eating clear on their faceplates. The Autobots behind and around them were grim-faced with the outrage of the childrens' suffering and the unspoken truth that there were more sparklings, younglings and adults out there that needed them too.

=0=Conference room, Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia

Tom Jaspers spilled his guts detailing the entire operation of Intel-Martin from his vantage point and access. They were working with a mysterious billionaire codenamed High Flyer to capture Autobots. The idea was to take the technology and apply it to weapons and other highly saleable items, using the cash to destabilize foreign governments and finance the rise in American and European politics of people who would be amenable to the bidding of both.

They were behind all of the interdictions the Autobots had made including Denver where Ironhide had almost died. They were the group that the trade-off would most benefit once they received the weapons. The biker gang was hired to be intermediary in Denver. Other groups were intermediaries in other attempts, all of them thwarted by the Autobots and N.E.S.T.

They were supposed to meet High Flyer and no, they had no idea who he was. He just funneled money to causes and individuals both inside and outside of government to get the leaverage they all wanted to influence public opinion. Undermining the Autobots in the mind of the public was task number one.

Task number two was capturing the Autobots Springer and Arcee to bind Intel-Martin and Nast to High Flyer once-and-for-all. High Flyer wanted to use Intel-Martin as a platform for their power climb and Nast was a willing accomplice.

Springer sitting in the corner listening stifled the urge to punch the human in the face. They were talking about him, his life, his fraggin' autonomy. No one had introduced anyone so Jaspers didn't know who he was. He listened as the human told about what Intel-Martin had planned to do.

"Did High Flyer tell ya why he wanted to capture these two particular Autobots?" Jazz asked.

Jaspers shook his head. "No. I got the idea that it was personal. Then I don't know half of what Nast said to High Flyer. I just know that Nast found it amusing to talk to High Flyer about the two."

"He talked to High Flyer?" Jazz asked.

Jasper nodded. "Nast told me that he had a funny voice but that the dude was using some sort of scrambler to make sure no one could identify him. Flyer was paranoid. But then I suppose I would be if I was doing direct business with the Decepticons."

It was silent a moment, then Optimus leaned forward. "You are on vacation. Your office and family will be notified. As of now you are a guest of the Autobot Embassy."

Jaspers looked at Prime blinking and swallowing hard. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked, his voice quavering.

Prime looked at him shaking his head slightly. "How many people have asked you that, Mr. Jaspers? Think about it and you may have your own answer already." He glanced at Springer. "Could you replace Mr. Jaspers and bring Nast, Springer."

Jaspers jolted looking at the green and yellow mech rising up from a corner chair. "Springer?" he stuttered glancing frantically between Springer and Prime.

"The one and only," Springer said reaching out to grasp Jaspers in his servo. He held him up scrutinizing Jasper and smiled slightly. "Don't worry, Mr. Jaspers. It won't hurt. Much," he said as he turned and walked out the door holding Jaspers in his servo like he was an old rag.

"You really enjoy that don't you," Jazz asked glancing at Prime who turned and looked at him sheepishly. "It never gets old does it?"

Prime smiled slightly. "No, it doesn't."

=0=Ratchet

He sat daydreaming as the day droned on. Ironhide and the others were interrogating the fraggers that were the cause of not only most of their own misery but of misery around the world. It was easier to pass the time trotting down memory lane than thinking about work now that the younglings were fed and resting. Where was he? Ah yes. Their 'courtship'. He grinned.

"Ratchet?"

Ironhide turned and looked at Ratchet who was standing looking up at the hotel where they were going for his 'audition'. Ratchet turned and looked at him with a gimlet eye though it would be vorns and eons and oceans of time before Ironhide would know that was what that was.

"Ironhide ... what is this place?"

"It's a hotel," Ironhide said turning to look at Ratchet quizzically.

"For pleasure drones and sleaze bags," he said. He frowned, his servos resting on his hips as he scrutinized the mechs coming and going. "Rent by the breem?" The sign was discreet but visible.

"Well," Ironhide said glancing up at the façade. "It was recommended."

"By who? A pleasure drone?" Ratchet said his frown deepening.

"It won't be forever, Ratchet. Just until the ..." He grinned and shook his head. "The audition is over."

"Pretty seedy stage, Ironhide," Ratchet said reluctantly following Ironhide inside.

It was equally miserable inside as Ironhide getting the key led Ratchet or rather dragged Ratchet by the servo down the hallway to an end room. Sliding the key in the sensor lock it clicked and Ironhide dragged Ratchet inside. The light came on with their arrival and the room presented itself. There was an oversized berth and nothing else.

Nothing.

Ratchet snorted turning to Ironhide who was looking around rather sheepishly. "You really know how to treat a mech."

"You wanna go some place else?" Ironhide asked looking wan.

"No, Ironhide, I wanna frag."

Ironhide snorted and grinned gripping Ratchet by the waist to pull him against his own chassis. "Why didn't you fraggin' say so, you slaggin' yellow aft?"

Ratchet snorted slipping his arms around Ironhide's broad shoulders for the first time ever.

Sober.

"Shut up and show me what you got."

And he did Ratchet thought pushing a button on the panel. Sitting back he considered that it was a good thing that there wasn't anything else in the room but the berth ...

He lay half off the berth when he came online again. Reaching around he decided he was alone. Sitting up groggily looking around with dimmed optics he found Ironhide offline on the floor. "Slagger," Ratchet said grinning. "Too much mech for your shiny aft I can see."

After a small unaccounted amount of time Ironhide's optics fritzed online and he sat up slowly. Glancing around he looked up catching the bemused expression of his soon-to-be Only One. "You are one slaggin' good old mech. Bond with me."

Ratchet laughed and looked at him fondly. "You're a romantic old fragger I'll hand you that."

"And you're the best looking old slagger on Cybertron."

Ratchet smiled at him knowing he meant it. Then he nodded. And they did.

As he sat pushing buttons on a planet that wasn't his, carrying a sparkling that would be, he thanked Primus for a goodnatured broad shouldered mech like Ironhide to help him take care of it because he sure as slag wasn't going to do it by himself. He might be a slave to the awesomeness that was Ironhide but he wasn't anyone's fool.

:Ratchet:

:What?:

:Just checkin':

:We're fine. How are you?:

:Getting' there:

:Good:

:Ratchet?:

:What?:

:Just checkin':

The warmth that surged over the bond was met and exceeded by that which reached Ironhide in the conference room. To his credit he didn't smile.

=0=TBC

TBC c2010 (12)

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Diego Diaries: The Beginning (Parts 1-15)

Author: arctapus

Genre: Humor/Romance, Drama, Epic length story

Published: 11-02-10,

Pairings: Ironhide/Ratchet is the main pair. Optimus Prime and Prowl are secondary. Other standard pairings and mechs are in and out of the weave of a story that begins in Diego Garcia then moves into the solar system and the galaxy in its scope.

Summary: A day in the life of an 'old married couple' and the effect they have when a personal prank and private joke go global. So to speak. I find the humor inherent between Ratchet and Ironhide hilarious. It is actually built into them I think. This will be many parts. This is part one.

Disclaimer: I do not own them or their world. I merely write in it and nothing exchanges hands here but laughs and the pleasure of their company.

=0=Diego Garcia, Indian Ocean, Earth

The rain was falling from the monsoon overhead, sheets of it for days and Ironhide was bored out of his processor. Out on the vast tarmac crews still worked, planes still came and went. Nothing else was different. However if you didn't have to leave your shelter it was all good. Occasionally an organic would come out of a hangar or building and run as fast as they could to wherever they were going, some even carrying shelters over them as they did. He considered that word, umbrella; it being an almost unspeakable set of syllables and while he did he was only dimly aware of something moving behind him.

"There you are."

He would have sighed if he could have. He just stood quietly trying to be invisible. "Hmpf."

"Don't hmpf me, bad boy," Ratchet said moving to stand next to his prey.

"Bad boy?" Ironhide asked glancing at the smirking figure beside him. He accessed the internet, the multiple possibilities presenting themselves. "Bad boy as in 'good boy'? Bad boy as in 'amazing and tremendous'?"

"No, 'bad boy' as in bad boy. I've been looking for you for a while," Ratchet said folding his arms across his chassis. "You are overdue."

"Maybe you better check yourself. I've been here all along. Could be, Ratchet, you need a long internal diagnostic," Ironhide said concluding that the concern in his voice fooled no one.

"I think we did that last night," Ratchet said smirking at his bond mate. "I didn't hear complaints then."

Ironhide snorted. "No. You were adequate."

Ratchet moved to stand in front of Ironhide unconcerned that water was now pounding on his back and aft. "Adequate?"

Ironhide devilment rising in his processor smirked. "Adequate."

"Ah," Ratchet said water beginning to run over his helm and down his face and shoulders as he straightened, his body language defensive. "I give you the best vorns of my life and all you can say is 'adequate'?"

"I'm not complaining," Ironhide said smirking slightly.

"Well, since we're grading performance," Ratchet said moving slightly closer. "I think you need a few upgrades, Ironhide. I find that there are certain performance levels that could use a bit of enhancement."

"Such as?" Ironhide asked, slight offense ghosting in his remarks.

"You squeak."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet, his optics searching his bond's face for the punch line. There wasn't one. "I squeak."

"You squeak. Get to med bay and don't make me have to come find you again." Ratchet satisfaction on his face plates turned and walked inside leaving a perturbed and quizzical Ironhide behind.

Ironhide stood in the doorway ruminating on himself. He didn't hear the voice below calling out to him. Will Lennox, a raincoat held over his head stood looking up at the distracted figure looming in the doorway. "Ironhide!"

Startled out of his thoughts Ironhide looked below. "Will Lennox," he said his mud-flavored voice acknowledging the human at last.

Will shook his raincoat and folded it turning his gaze upward again. "What's up, Ironhide? You look distracted."

Ironhide looked at him for a moment considering something. "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Will replied, a grin forming on his face. When Ironhide asked a question it could be and always was just about anything, half the time something hilarious. "Ask away."

He considered Lennox for a moment, then leaned down slightly. "Do I squeak?"

=0=A few breems later

He sat on the med berth jacks and wires poked into him as if he was a switchboard at a telephone station in the 1930's. He sat restlessly, an expression of exasperation on his face plates as Ratchet ran an in-depth exploration of his internal and external fitness. The medic murmured to himself taking notes on datapads, subspacing and retrieving a number of them as he mused on Ironhide. Glancing up, their eyes meeting, Ratchet smiled. This was his domain, the place from which great kingdoms rose or fell. He could ground even Prime if he felt it was warranted. "Quit fidgeting."

"I'm not fidgeting," Ironhide said fidgeting. "I think the humans have too many words."

Ratchet snorted. "They have words for their words."

Ironhide nodded. "Perceptive of you."

Ratchet glanced up smirking. "How perceptive of *you*."

Ironhide considering the smugness with which Ratchet was conducting himself once more felt the slight of their different educational attainments. Ratchet was the best medical mechanic ever produced by Cybertron's university system and he was a warrior who graduated from the military academy, a totally different intellectual route to adulthood. Albeit, he was the most feared warrior in the Autobot Army but nonetheless he was a soldier first, last and always. "Indubitably," he said turning his eyes to stare at the hallway where a couple of mechs were standing waiting their turn.

"Ah, you have been frolicking in the fields of the internet once again," Ratchet said a smile forming on his face. "Tilt your helm."

"I do not frolic," he said. Ironhide tilted his head and another jack was inserted, a buzz in his processor tingling all the way to his lips. He touched them and scowled at Ratchet. "That makes my lips tingle."

"I know something else that does," Ratchet said softly waggling his eye ridges at his partner.

Ironhide felt himself grinning in spite of himself. "You're feeling frisky."

"I have my moments," he said even more quietly. He glanced at the door, then back at Ironhide. "I would show you if there wasn't a line waiting for me."

"That sounds suggestive," Ironhide said smirking.

Ratchet thought a moment, then snorted. Glancing back at the doorway, then toward Ironhide, he smiled. "I guess it pays to advertise. Sit up straight."

Ironhide straightened and fell silent as Ratchet took his arm and began to raise, lower and rotate it, watching the socket's performance as he did. "It works."

"That's for me to say," Ratchet said laying it down to walk to the other side. He took that arm and began to do the same.

"Am I done?" Ironhide asked with exasperation.

"No," Ratchet said putting down that arm to write notes on a datapad he had lying on the med bed. He turned and began to pull plugs out of Ironhide's body closing panels on his neck, arms and in the middle of his chest. "Now you are."

Ironhide grunted and slid to his feet. "About time," he said.

"I don't tell you your job, don't tell me mine. Go, blow something up."

Ironhide grinned at Ratchet and nodded. "Think I will." He walked to the door pausing. Glancing back at Ratchet he smirked at the mechs waiting. "Enjoy," he said. Then he turned and walked out the door.

Ratchet watched him go, pleased that he was functioning above 98%. It was in the range he labored long and hard to maintain for Ironhide. Old slagger, Ratchet thought as he turned and called the next victim to come forward.

-0-Shooting range

Ironhide walked to the firing line setting down his latest configuration of ammo samples. He had decided to find a way to pierce armor more completely and his incendiary cartridges were a new mix. As he did, a number of organic soldiers watched him pausing from their own shooting to see what he would do. Ironhide's idea of blowing things up was only just this side of the Apocalypse for the soldiers that shared range space with him.

He was in the zone, his element and so with barely a nod he concerned himself with what he was doing. Round after round he fired, the explosions becoming more accurate and finely tuned as he calibrated his weapons for the new mixture. He wasn't particularly paying attention until he heard Ratchet's name mentioned. Without watching them he dialed in his audios to listen.

"I can't imagine it. It would be like two trains running into each other."

There was laughter at the remark, then he blew something up so they paused to watch. After a round or two, they began again.

"Ratchet is such a gruff old guy, one of those "you kids get off my lawn" sorts of personalities. I can't imagine how they got together. And what is **that** all about? Last time I heard they were both guys. Mechs means 'guy' doesn't it?"

There was general agreement and they were about to continue speaking when Ironhide 'accidentally' dropped a cartridge their direction. It hit the ground, a huge cylinder filled with death rolling their way causing them to turn and run as fast as they could. He looked at them and when they stopped, staring at him with fear and exasperation he smiled slightly. "Fire in the hole," was all he said.

-0-Later that day

Will Lennox and Robert Epps finished their last briefings and turned walking together across the wet tarmac toward the Autobot complex. Underground chambers had been cleared and remodeled to accommodate the living and working space of Autobots ranging in size from sixteen to nearly thirty feet. It was diplomatic space, no humans allowed to enter unless invited. It was their private sanctuary although some organics, Lennox and Epps for instance were given carte blanche to come and go.

Entering the main above ground hangar, crossing the expanse toward their Ops Center they spotted Ironhide. He was walking toward the Ops Center himself and when they called to him he turned to wait. Reaching him, they waited as he leaned down and opened his big servo. Both of them climbed on board and he arose turning to walk once more for the Ops Center.

"You're quiet," Lennox said looking up at Ironhide.

"You're not," Ironhide said noncommittally.

They rode in silence into the Operational Center and he put them down moving to peer at the long range sensor screens that monitored movements in the solar system beyond Earth. Nothing much was happening but for the small comet that had finally wend its way here after a hundred years of being elsewhere.

"Nothing going on today, Ironhide," Sideswipe said.

Ironhide grunted. "Sounds acceptable. Boring but acceptable."

Will and Robert snorted. "You off?"

Ironhide looked at him puzzling the question, then assumed they meant was he free, not was he crazy. "Yes."

"We'd like to talk to you. Privately," Lennox added.

Ironhide looked at them, then paused glancing around. Holding out his hand they climbed in and he turned walking past Prowl who was bending over a station in deep conversation with Smokescreen. They wandered out, down the corridor to the open hangar and out toward the doorway. He put them down and hunkered down bringing himself closer to eye level. "Is this adequate?"

"Yeah," Will replied suddenly nervous. "Uh, Ironhide, I have some questions I want to ask you to clear up something in my head."

"Your processor is bothering you," Ironhide replied his optics direct and intense as he watched both of them 'fidget'. *That* is fidgeting Ratchet he thought. "What is it?"

Will gulped and looked at Robert who was looking at a fascinating crack in the concrete floor. Will swallowed and raised his hands placating whomever he could. "I don't want to pry and I know that if you think I was you would tell me that I didn't need to know what I'm asking and I know you know how much I respect all of you, especially you, Ironhide."

"You sound like Bluestreak. What is it?"

For a moment Will just stood there staring at him earnestly. Then he asked. "What is the thing between you and Ratchet?"

 

 

 

 

The Diego Diaries: "Deal, schlemiel."

=0=At the base on Diego Garcia, confabbing ...

"Thing? What thing, William Lennox?" Ironhide asked, more than just a little aware of what the soldier was trying to find out.

Will shrugged. "I was wondering … I heard a few of the men talking about you and Ratchet and I was wondering … that is, I was wanting to know …" He glanced at Epps who blinked at him before looking away. He frowned slightly. "That is, ***Epps*** was wondering. **Ask him, Bobby**."

Epps glanced up at Lennox, his eyes round with surprise and fear. "You're the leader. ***Lead***."

Lennox put his hands on his hips and glared. "You brought the question to me."

Ironhide glanced from one to the other as they argued mildly amused at the fuss but concerned. No one among the organics knew much about the personal relationships among the Autobots and they kept it that way. Most of them like his own with Ratchet were not exactly welcomed in their society, especially the military. "Is there a question?"

They paused looking up at Ironhide parsing his face as they searched for anything that would indicate amusement or at the very least a lack of irritation. Lennox sighed, defeated. "I would like to know if you are willing to tell me about the relationship you have with Ratchet. What I am wanting to know … not for prurient reasons you understand … I know when something is not my business. I am just wanting to know for myself … that is, so that I can be … efficient. Yes, **efficient** in my leadership. Of men. The men." He stumbled to the end and stood exhausted sighing deeply.

"My relationship with Ratchet," Ironhide said considering the millenniums of time that encompassed. "What part of my relationship do you wish to know? He is our chief medic, our comrade-at-arms. There are many sides to our relationship."

Will rubbed his face with his hands, his normally even complexion paling under the stress of the moment. "I guess, Ironhide, what I'm asking is if you and Ratchet, that is, you and Ratchet … are you in a personal relationship?"

Ironhide looked at them, his expression one of thoughtfulness. "Yes."

For a moment, it was silent. Then they both released the breath they were holding. "Well, that's … that's all I guess … thank you, Ironhide."

Ironhide looked at them finding in their unease both a sense of amusement and irritation. For a moment he considered walking away, then he changed his mind. They were small and young. It was time that the elders of their profession taught them a lesson. "May I ask why you are interested in this, Will Lennox?"

Will shrugged and brought his hands up, his expression one of embarrassed confusion. "Actually, Ironhide, the men are talking about it. They are curious."

Ironhide shook his head pondered the U.S. military's lack of maturity in the area of certain personal relationships and considered his options. He could school them on the lack of gender hangups the Transformers had acquired over millions of years, multiple non-sexual manners of reproduction and the severe scarcity of femmes making such concerns moot or he could kick their afts. He chose the latter. "Ratchet and I are in a bonded relationship. There is more I could tell you, things that are intensely important but I don't know that you would be able to keep the secret. That is how important it is."

Will nodded. "I understand."

"We keep a lot of secrets, Ironhide," Bobby Epps said biting the bait, glancing at Will as he spoke. Will's expression turned downward at the exact moment Epps's went up. He turned and smiled at Ironhide. "I don't expect you to tell us anything, Ironhide but I want you to know that if you ever have to confide your secrets go to the grave with us."

Ironhide pretended to mull this over turning his head this way and that as if deep in thought. Then he nodded. "That is good to know, Sargent Epps. The burdens are heavy. Perhaps …"

Lennox bursting at the seams to ask dozens and dozens of his own questions made one more trip to the well of his conscience and took a deep draught. "You aren't under any obligation, Ironhide to breach a confidence or confide in us."

"I realize that but I am swayed by Sargent Epps." He stood up and looked around bending down at last to put his big servo out. They startled, then moved forward sitting on it as Ironhide rose, walking out of the doorway and across the tarmac to an empty hangar, looking this way and that as if seeking spies. By the time they reached the hangar the rain was falling again slightly, the hammering of it on the tin roof pleasant. Ironhide put them down, then walked to the door peering out dramatically this way and that. Then he turned regarding the two men quietly. Moving toward them he hunkered down looking at them with a solemn optic. "You must swear never to breathe a word I tell you to anyone."

They both nodded, Epps and Lennox crossing their hearts, heads bobbing in agreement as they shifted back and forth on their feet in nervous agitation. Their eyes never left Ironhide's face and it was with effort that Ironhide controlled his mirth. "Well then. I will tell you what you must never transmit to another living soul."

They nodded again nearly bursting at the seams with nervous energy.

"Ratchet and I are bonded. Have been forever since Primus was a pup. What most people don't know … what no one really knows …" He paused and looked around, then fixed a steady optic on the two men. "Optimus Prime is our son."

The room was silent and the two men stopped moving, their jaws falling open in surprise. They stood like statues, then Will swallowed. "Your son?" You and Ratchet? You have a ***son***? ***Optimus*?"**

Ironhide stood and turned away for a moment making an effort to control himself as he pretended to look around for spies. Then he turned again hunkering down on a knee assembly. "Yes," he said considering his joke. "We actually have several younglings."

"You ***do*?"** Will asked blinking. "More than ***one*?"**

"Sure," Ironhide said pausing to consider how big his courts-martial charges would be if he included grandchildren. "Ratchet, he's quite the brooder."

Epps gasped and put his hand over his face covering his eyes. Will swallowed hard nodding. "Well, thank you, Ironhide. That … we will keep your secret, I promise you."

"I knew you would, William. I am sure that Optimus and Bumblebee would be glad to know that you are keeping the secret."

"Bumblebee?" Epps asked looking up surprised.

"Grandchildren," Ironhide replied smiling.

The two men stared at him, then they made their excuses slipping out of the hangar together. Ironhide walked to the door and watched them go, the rain falling harder as they fled. Then he walked back inside and laughed himself half to death.

-0-Medbay, later on

"You said **what**?" Ratchet stared at him, his optics wide, his mouth hanging open.

"You heard me." Ironhide smirked feeling pretty well pleased with himself. It had been a prank worthy of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. And the best part of it all was they were sworn to keep the 'secret'. Of course being the contrarian that he was and bearing a healthy dosage of propriety, Ratchet was scandalized.

That he hadn't thought of it himself.

"You told him that Optimus was our youngling and that Bumblebee was our … what is the word you said?"

"Grandchild."

"Grandchild?" Ratchet said looking at him with astonishment. "We don't even have children."

"We didn't before but we do now. I told them we have several."

Ratchet just stared at him, visions of courts-martial and summary executions flitting across his processor; then he paused, other images filling his thoughts. "We don't have children, Ironhide. We don't have them or grandchildren and at this rate we never will."

The change in atmosphere almost wrenched Ironhide's head off. He looked up at Ratchet, putting down the incomprehensible tool he had picked up that was lying on a table near Ratchet's desk and looked at the medic more closely. He was gazing at Ironhide with a strange expression, sadness and something else. Then it changed to one more familiar. He turned and faced Ratchet, his optics wary and the urge to flee rising in him. "Ratchet? You have that look."

"What look?" Ratchet asked, a thin humorless smile forming on his lips. "Actually, Ironhide, you fill me with ideas."

"Oh, no you don't," he said turning to walk to the door. A wench flying silently through the air clanked on his shoulder and he turned facing a fully roused bond mate.

"Oh, yes, Ironhide. You brought it up. You have to deal."

With that the big front liner turned and fled.

=0=Late that evening

"You're still up?"

The deep sonorous tenor of Optimus Prime jolted Ironhide out of his thoughts. He turned schooling his face not to grin and nodded. "Can't recharge."

"That's where I'm heading," Optimus said pausing to stare at the night sky. "More are coming."

"I know. I'm pleased," Ironhide said. "Feels more like home when they come."

"Would feel more like home with sparklings," Optimus proffered, his gaze fixed on the break in the clouds and the light of a big full moon.

Ironhide glanced at Optimus, startled. "Sparklings? What have you heard about them?"

Optimus looked at Ironhide, a strange look on his face. "Nothing. What have you heard?"

"Nothing," Ironhide said turning to gaze at the moon. "Nice moon."

Optimus glanced at Ironhide wondering what was going through that mech's processor. Then he turned grinning slightly. "Home is where your family is. Our family is coming, Ironhide."

Ironhide smiled and nodded unaware how true those innocent words of encouragement actually were. Optimus nodded and moved off walking toward the hangar where home and bed were. "Good night, Optimus."

"Goodnight, Ironhide."

The night was quiet and the moon was full as Ironhide stood watching the sky. The rain was finally stopping.

-0-"Give me an R, give me an A, give me a C …"

Prowl walked into med bay, a datapad in his servo and a question in his mind. Three new mechs had arrived the night before and an even dozen were on their way. More were sending messages ahead and the excitement in the ranks was increasing. He paused, his door wings fluttering as he considered a number of tasks all at the same time. Ratchet was bent over a computer terminal researching something that he could only guess. "Ratchet?" he asked his tenor soft and low.

Ratchet looked up surprised, then moved quickly standing between Prowl and the screen. "Prowl. What can I do for you?" A big smile formed on his facial plates, a big insincere appearing smile.

Prowl considered the odd brief interaction and said nothing. Sometimes the medic was beyond his processor. "I would like to know when you will have the medical reports on our newcomers ready and also, I would like to know what you might need if anything for the ones on their way?"

Ratchet considered that and smiled. "I think we're up to it unless they come dismantled and shipped by UPS."

A brief moment as Prowl accessed the proper interpretations, then a small smile formed on his handsome face. "Indeed," he said softly. "Thank you, Ratchet." With that he turned, pausing. "I will expect the reports."

"You will have them," Ratchet said continuing to smile as Prowl walked out the door. As soon as he was gone so was Ratchet's smile. Then he turned and began his researching once again.

=0=On a plane back to Diego Garcia from the field

Ironhide awoke from recharge, the turbulence disturbing not only his rest but that of the other Autobots in the plane.

:Bluestreak, are you awake?:

Sunstreaker's voice whispered over the interlink stirring a number of others who were hanging on the cusp of recharging.

:Sunny?: the gunner whispered. :Everyone is recharging:

:Everyone was: Mirage's refined tones reached everyone in the group as the organics sat dozing obliviously.

:You sound aggravated, Mirage: Sideswipe said. :I figured you would have all the rest you wanted out in space. Don't tell me you're losing your step:

An elegant snort was all he deigned for response and as they flew he began to ask questions. :The organics … they fight rather well:

:I think they do. What do you think, Sunny?: Blue asked his cheerful voice a balm to everyone's audials.

:I don't care for them. Ask Sideswipe. They get in the way:

:I like them. Epps is a good warrior. He's got guts: Sideswipe began.

The conversation continued, Ironhide listening with half an audial. He found himself concentrating on his bond, on the secretive actions and pointed, even heated gazes that Ratchet had been giving him since his little prank. On the firing range and on the field, the soldiers were just as dedicated and respectful to him now. It made that moment seem a lapse. But then he was aware that they would not be so bold as to challenge him or insult his family to his face. He would have to have another conversation with the soldiers.

He replayed the conversation with Optimus again and again, the expression on his face and his remarks about sparklings nervous making. Ratchet had also taken up the moment and was gyrating off into some sort of direction he couldn't figure out, probably making traps in his lab just for Ironhide. The prank was brilliant but it was sparking off in a lot of directions he didn't count on.

Sparking. Poor choice of words, Ironhide, he said to himself. The odd feeling of sneaky subversion that filtered through their bond, a bond that he had noticed was tamped down at different times of the orbital cycle he might add was making him nervous. Ratchet was up to something and he dreaded what it might mean to their easy-going unencumbered lifestyle.

The transport continued onward drawing them closer to Diego Garcia and the comforts and eccentricities of home.

=0=That night

They arrived just as the sun was setting on the horizon, the shimmering sea a wonderful utterly alien sight to the Transformers. An ocean of water, that was brand new and many of them spent time looking at and wandering around its sparkling edges. Ironhide drove off the plane, the muggy warmth of the night welcomed after the cold snowy taiga of Russia. He moved slowly forward transforming at the door of the hangar that led to their personal spaces.

Nodding goodnight to one and all, he trudged sleepily down the broad corridor that led into the underground installation. His quarters, a shared personal space with Ratchet was at the end of the two lane road that once was occupied with delivery trucks bringing supplies to the various great underground rooms and hangars. He found his door and gathered himself opening their bonding link just a fraction to gauge what was on Ratchet's processor. Recharge reached him and he relaxed punching in his code, opening the door.

It was dark but he could see Ratchet's form in the dimness reclining on the berth. Carefully removing his cannons and other pieces and parts of his personal arsenal he walked over and peered down. Ratchet was offline, his face gentle and youthful in repose. Ironhide smiled, the same flutter rising in his spark as it did the first time he decided they were 'meant for each other'.

-Way the frag long ago

"You've got to be kidding," Ratchet said deep in the workings of Ironhide's knee assembly.

"Nope," Ironhide said biting on his lower lip as Ratchet tightened the last nut in place. The medic turned regarding Ironhide with a level appraising gaze. He grinned. "I'll tell you what, Ironhide," he began. "If you pass inspection in the sack then you have a deal."

Ironhide no newcomer to the ball blinked from the brazen calculation of the offer. Then he grinned. "Sold."

That night had been a barn burner and they had clenched the deal, a deal that would span the lifetime of some stars and would land them here on an alien world with alien hosts fighting the same old slag as ever.

He smiled and with as much effort to be careful and quiet as a mech his size could muster Ironhide lay down on his side of the berth. He laid still waiting on his side for a moment. Then as if programmed Ratchet turned on his side and spooned directly behind him. /...You are putty in my servos.../ Ironhide thought to himself with a sigh.

Ratchet awake and aware that Ironhide had come back smiled slightly. "Hey, bad boy. I see you made it."

Ironhide started a moment, then relaxed. "We all did. No injuries."

"I know. I'm still here aren't I," Ratchet murmured, his servos stroking Ironhide's arm. They traced circles in his armor sliding down the brawny slope of his shoulder, then slid along his waist to rest on his hip.

Ironhide lying without a movement considered this opening gambit. It seemed that Ratchet was goading him into doing something he was too tired for once to attempt. "You lost something, Ratchet?"

Ratchet's smile dimmed a moment as he considered the odd question. "What?"

"Your servo. I was wondering what you were looking for," Ironhide said a small smile quirking on his face plates.

A tight grip on his hip elicited the correct amount of painful yelping from Ironhide as Ratchet pinched the wiring underneath the armor plating on Ironhide's hip. "You sure know how to ruin the mood."

"I don't have a mood, Ratchet. I'm hardly awake. The younglings talked on the plane ride all the way back. It's hard to threaten someone when you're tied down under a net."

"I don't like those travel arrangements."

"You and me both," Ironhide said grasping Ratchet's servo, pulling it and his arm more tightly around himself. Ratchet thwarted snuggled against him scheming. "Ironhide?"

"What?" he asked simulating fatigue in his voice.

"I was wondering …"

The words hung in the air.

"Ironhide?"

"What?" he answered again smiling in spite of himself.

"I was thinking about what you said to the soldiers, what we talked about."

It was silent a moment. Ratchet peered up and over Ironhide's broad frame. He could see Ironhide's optics and they were offline. He lay back wondering if the big black mech was pulling his leg. Then he smiled. What a stupid expression he thought even as he quelled the urge to pull Ironhide's leg off and club him with it. He snuggled closer and closed his optics redrawing his plans for victory even as recharge claimed him again.

=0=Ops Center, Autobot Barracks

Prowl glanced up as Optimus Prime entered the command deck smiling back at him with weary optics. The huge mech took a seat and stretched. "Welcome back, sir," Prowl said.

"Thank you, Prowl," he replied. "Anything happening that can't wait until tomorrow?"

"No. We have an ETA for the next ten bots in tomorrow at 1400 hours our time."

"Good," Optimus said smiling. "What a change. More Autobots in than we can almost use."

Prowl chuckled softly. "True. Such a dilemma."

He grinned admiring the clean crisp beauty of his sub-commander. "Well if that is all, I'll go recharge."

"Actually," Prowl began, the small nagging moment with Ratchet creeping back upon him once more. "Ratchet."

Prime nodded. "Acting oddly, giving Ironhide strange looks especially when he isn't looking."

Prowl nodded. "Yes. It's odd. I know you are close to Ironhide and I wondered unless it's a personal matter if you thought something was wrong between them."

"I hope not," Prime said worried. "I am not aware of any difficulties but you know those two. They would never tell each other let alone anyone else."

"Do you think they might need an intervention, someone to go and speak with them that might help them through whatever difficulty they might be facing?"

"Perhaps," Prime considered. "Let me think about it, watch them for a few days. If nothing comes up on radar we may have some relaxation coming."

"Most overdue, sir. I would suggest that you take advantage of that too. I can handle some of the more mundane meetings and record others," Prowl said, his no nonsense expression falling in place.

Prime smiled and nodded, rising. "Comm me if you need me. I'm going to recharge."

"I will," Prowl said rising too. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Prowl," Prime said with a warm smile. He turned, feeling the mech's gaze upon him and when he reached the door he looked back. Prowl was back to work once more making the plates spin. You may suggest whatever you wish, Prowler, Optimus thought to himself as he finally tore himself away and walked to his quarters to recharge.

#4: What comes around, goes around.

=0=The next morning

Ironhide sat in the rec room, a cube of energon in his big fist. Around him speaking with excited chatter the other mechs took their morning sustenance as they discussed the newcomers arriving that afternoon. Some of them were coming off shift, others were getting ready to go and some had the day off like Ironhide. Prime had just left having sat down beside him, his kindly optics burning a hole through the guilty aura that suffused Ironhide whenever the big mech came around lately. He didn't regret his joke. That was one for the record books. He hated getting caught and so he perfected his innocent optics look for not only Ratchet and oddly enough Prowl, but for the Prime also.

He shook his head. Life was getting complicated.

And nothing was more complicated at the moment than the brooding medic that sat across from him. Ratchet gazed at him, his optics never leaving Ironhide's face as he sipped his energon, the wheels turning so obviously that even an oblivious mech like Ironhide could see them. "Uh, Ratchet? You all right?" he asked considering that he had to make some conversation since Ratchet hadn't spoken a word since sitting down. In fact, when they on-lined and moved around to get ready for the day Ratchet was silent then as well. It was foreboding.

"I'm fine," Ratchet said his vocal intonation colored with darkness.

Ironhide paused his cube halfway to his mouth, gazing at Ratchet and calculated what new tactic the big mech was trying on him now. "You sound … odd."

"Odd?" Ratchet asked his voice rising. Mechs sitting nearby paused, glancing at them. Ironhide, his optics flaring in surprise leaned forward trying to shush his bond. Ratchet leaned forward too, his optics filled with agitated emotion. "Odd!" he asked louder.

The room stilled with every bot including a startled Prowl turning to stare at them. Ironhide glancing sideways and noticing this wished for a moment that the floor would open up and he could fall in. He looked at Ratchet with the air of a desperate mech. "Ratchet, lower your voice."

"Why?" Ratchet said, his voice carrying from the rec room to the hallway nearby. Ironhide knew that because several mechs including Bluestreak and the twins peered in, their optics wide with curiosity. "Why should I lower my voice? Why, Ironhide, should I do ***anything*** anymore?"

"Oh Primus," Ironhide whispered gripping his cube as he winced. "Let's go some place and talk about this, okay?"

"Some place ***else***?" Ratchet asked his voice at a level that could not be denied. "Why not ***here***? Why not let the ***entire base*** know about our business? A fat lot ***you*** care."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet, his processor bordering on the fritz and he looked at his hand and the crushed energon cube therein. He put it on the table watching as it unfolded itself again, forming a perfect cube. It reminded him of the box he currently was in, crushed but yearning to be square once more He looked at Ratchet catching the look of triumph on his face before he quickly returned to tragic. He felt a brittle smirk form on his lips as he recognized the challenge thrown down before him in this, the most public place for Autobots anywhere on base. "So you want to play this game do you," he said his voice low.

Ratchet leaned forward. "Engarde, you slagger," Ratchet replied rising. He downed his cube and tossed it on the table staring at Ironhide with a calculating expression. "You're on," he said quietly. Then he turned and walked away, an expression of tremendous hurt schooled on his face.

Ironhide watched him admiring Ratchet's gall and the determined swish of his aft, then felt it, the combined silence and intense optics of the entire room square upon him. He glanced around taking in the shocked faces and wide optics of everyone he knew. Then he leaned back gathering himself. "What the frag are ***you*** lookin' at?" he growled.

The entire room jerked a moment, then settled back, the buzz of conversation returning albeit muted. Ironhide sat on his chair considering his options, then rose downing his energon. He took his cube and Ratchet's to the recycler dropping them in and walking out ignoring everyone in the room.

Every optic followed him and when he was safely out of earshot the room exploded in speculation. 

Just as Ratchet knew it would. 

And just as Ironhide knew that Ratchet knew that it would.

First round Ratchet, Ironhide thought as he walked to the firing range to blow up everything he could find that even remotely qualified as a target.

=0=Ops Center

"He ***did***?"

Prowl nodded.

" ***He*** did ***too***?"

Prowl nodded again.

Prime shook his head considering the possibilities. Prowl watched him, his tanks in turmoil. "Should I speak with Ratchet?" he asked.

Prime considered that option, the two hardheaded personalities involved, then nodded negatively. "I think its going to take someone with a Matrix to approach those two and not lose a limb. I don't think I like the idea of you ducking wrenches or worse," Optimus said smiling. A small smile formed on Prowl's lips and Optimus squelched the desire to explore it with his tongue. "I will talk to them first. Then if reinforcements are needed I will comm you."

Prowl chuckled softly, shaking his head. "It feels like my genitors are fighting."

"Did they?" Prime asked, the first real personal revelation from Prowl filing away in his databanks for later scrutiny.

"No, actually," Prowl offered sheepishly, thinking back to a quiet cold sparklinghood. "They considered that lower class." He shrugged, a helpless look on his face. Prime squelched his libidinous programming once more. "They were silent when they were angry. I preferred it if they actually argued but they never did."

A pang crossed Prime's processor and he stilled his arm as the need to caress Prowl's face arose in him. "Mine argued. Not often but it was interesting when they did. I will talk to Ratchet. Ironhide is on the firing range. I'll let him bleed off a little malice before I approach him."

Prowl nodded and watched as Prime rose and turned walking to the door. He admired the grace of such a big mech, the subtlety of his movements, then he quashed that before his romantic subroutines overtook his sense. With a slight grin he turned back to work.

=0=Medbay

Prime peeked his head around the corner warily seeking Ratchet's position before advancing, perhaps under fire. Ratchet sensing someone behind him turned around from a tray of implements and grinned. "Hello, Optimus. You can enter. I'm not at war with you."

Optimus entered considering the comment. "You're at war with Ironhide."

He nodded. "Yes. The old fragger started it and I don't intend to lose."

Prime nodded. "I don't suppose you want to share the problem with me."

Ratchet glanced at him and chuckled. "You might not want to hear what I have to say."

"Try me," Optimus said grinning as he walked to the med bed and hopped on relaxing as he considered Ratchet's mood.

Ratchet looked at Prime considering what he understood about the good-natured dignified mech. Then he smiled. "You have to promise me that you won't tell Ironhide what I tell you. He will be … um, he will be unhappy to say the least."

Optimus considered that, the smile Ratchet had on his face and the number of other times that the two had torn up the world with their personal dynamic. He nodded. "Alright. Shoot."

Ratchet accessed that remark and smirked. "Apropos for Ironhide," he snorted. Then he turned and considered Prime. "Did you know that you were our youngling, Ironhide and me?"

Prime blinked, a smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth. "Who did he tell that whopper?"

"The soldiers."

Prime considered the effect on the morale of the soldiers and did the math. He took the delicate ties they had with the organics, timed it by the number of idiot civilians that had a hand in the way things were run, divided it by the intense emotional regard he had for both Ratchet and Ironhide and finally squared it by the totality of the frag he didn't care. Then he smiled. "He did, the slagger?"

Ratchet nodded grinning with a certain amount of pride in the sheer audacity of his bond. "He did."

They were silent a moment, then Ratchet dropped the other shoe. "By the way, we have a grandchild too."

"Grandchild?" Optimus asked his optics lighting up with mirth like a fog light on a freeway.

Ratchet nodded. "Bumblebee. Oh and you have several siblings to be named later."

Prime considered that, then he exploded. In laughter. He laughed and laughed, then paused laughing some more. He wiped his optics and grinned at Ratchet who was standing before him arms crossed on his chest and a grin of supreme bliss on his face. "So," Prime said settling. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing yet," Ratchet said smiling. "I've got it firmly under control. I think."

They both laughed together for a while.

=0=Ops Center

Prowl looked up concern on his face as Optimus walked toward him and took a seat next to him. "Did you speak to them?"

"Ratchet," he replied. Then he schooled his face to deep concern having made up his mind to teach Ironhide his own lesson. "I'm concerned, Prowl."

The look of alarm on Prowl's face almost made Prime waver but he held fast basking in Prowl's beauty as different expressions formed and then fled his usually calm impassive face. Someday he would regret this but not now. He reached over and touched Prowl's hand. "It's all right. I'm going to deal with this."

Prowl raised stricken optics and nodded. "Do you think there is anything I can do? I heard them in the rec room. I'm not an expert on relationships but it sounded serious."

Warmth suffused Prime's spark as he listened, then he squeezed Prowl's hand. "I'll let you know," he said rising. Prowl looked up nodding and watched as Optimus turned walking away heading out of the Ops Center to the base beyond. He shook his head and glanced around turning once more to his job.

#5: “Wha?”

Ironhide blew up the last possibly definable item on the firing range he could justify. Powering down his weapons, he listened to the general announcement that front liners were given three stellar cycles off from duty pending Decepticon activity. He thought a moment and vented, his systems revving for a moment. He considered three days with Ratchet and nothing to divert either of them from their macabre dance of doom. Turning, grunting at the greeting from a number of organics he trudged depressed and wary toward the Autobot hangars.

Bobby Epps directing the new arrivals to N.E.S.T on the firing range smiled. The goggle-eyed newbies stood around him as they watched the ominous figure of the renowned Ironhide walk past them, all twenty-five feet of his black menacing masculinity reflected on the awed respect on their faces. He was a formidable sight and when he passed far enough away they turned and grouped around their sergeant.

"Whoa." A lieutenant gulped. "Look at the mayhem."

They all turned and noted the profusion of blast holes, scorched marks and broken bits and pieces of stuff now no longer identifiable laying here and there.

"Does he do that a lot?" a corporal asked.

Epps nodded. "He keeps his weapons in shape. He's a pro."

"Is he really as dangerous as he looks?" the lieutenant asked, his expression grave.

Epps considered his words and nodded. "They all are to the Decepticons but they are on our side. These guys are warriors and they have been at this longer than we've been a species. They are true blue, dependable and you don't have to be afraid of them. You just have to give them the respect they have earned." He paused and looked at Ironhide's retreating figure. "Lennox loves him like a brother and so do I. There are Autobots that are really dangerous as personalities like Sunstreaker. But they are on our side and they will fight for you just as we fight for them. Don't ever forget that." He then ordered them to line up and get their weapons ready.

Nearby, halfway to the hangar Ironhide smiled as he listened in. They had better treat us right he pondered. Primus knows we do with them. What comes around goes around. Then he paused staring at the hangar door and the moody medic hidden somewhere in the depths of the massive structure. He smiled and shook his helm considering that it felt easier right now to face down Starscream unarmed than see his intended and true, the redoubtable Ratchet. Gathering his internals together he continued onward and walked into the hangar with his helm held up.

The trip across the hangar and onward to the road that led inside was fraught with knowing or curious looks and whispers among mechs. He ignored them walking like usual with his optics forward and his cannons within reach. Age had its privileges and he knew if he even glanced at other mechs they would curl up and flee. The Ops Center was the only place on the Autobot schedule that was fully meched and running. He entered and walked to the sensor center pausing beside Jazz.

Jazz glanced up and snorted. "Hey, Ironhide. How's the missus?"

Ironhide perused the appropriate language file, then snorted, chuckling. "I dare you to call Ratchet that to his face."

"I don't have a suicidal tendency in my entire body," Jazz said snorting. "There's nothin' on the radar. You're stuck."

"Frag," Ironhide said. "When I need those fraggin' slaggers they lay low."

"A mech can't win," Jazz said grinning.

Ironhide nodded. "Slaggin' right," he said turning to go. He paused facing a concerned Prowl. "Uh, hello, Prowl. Can I do anything for you?"

Prowl shook his head. "No, Ironhide. But if there is anything I can do for you, you know I will. You just have to ask."

Ironhide blinked, then nodded suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to flee. "Thank you, Prowl," he said moving around the mech, hurrying across the room and out the door. Prowl watched him, then turned shaking his head.

Jazz caught him, a frown forming on his face. "What?" he asked.

Prowl debating whether to tell decided to because Jazz was third in command and he needed to know anything that might impinge on their performance capacity. He leaned down and whispered into Jazz's audials what he had seen, heard and in brief; just the professional concerns Prime had for the two of them and not a thing more personal. He was nothing if not prudent.

"Wha?" Jazz said looking up, his optics filled with concern.

Prowl looking down nodded. The two of them stood together expressions of worry and concern highlighting their faces before they turned and went back to work once more.

=0=In the corridors

Ironhide moved along ignoring everyone and then he decided in the middle of the roadway that he had no place to go. Their quarters weren't beckoning. Ratchet would expect him to clean them up as he was the one off duty at that moment. Medbay had Ratchet and the rec room had everyone else. He was trapped without refuge so he stood steaming in the middle of the corridor as everyone walked around him optics averted and peds flying.

He turned gathering his internals and began a beeline for the med bay determined to get the upper hand once more. His internal fortitude began to flag the closer he got so he stood outside shifting from ped to ped wondering to Primus how things could get so slagged. The door was open so he peered around the corner catching sight of First Aid. "Psst."

First Aid looked up, then back catching sight of Ironhide. Fear flashed across his face before disappearing. "Ironhide."

"Shhh!" Ironhide said unconsciously imitating the soldiers he served with. He waved First Aid over. He came, trepidation informing each ped fall. "Where is Ratchet?"

"In his office," First Aid replied, the gentle mech nervously twisting his servos.

"What's his mood?"

"Fine. Considering."

"Considering what?" Ironhide asked.

"Considering you're both acting like glitch heads," First Aid offered, boldness overcoming his worry about slagging a front liner.

Ironhide sighed shifting slightly. "I'm going in. If I don't come out in a half a joor send in the troops."

First Aid watched with loathing as Ironhide stepped around him and walked towards Ratchet's door. He turned looking down the hallway for anyone he could use as reinforcements and found no one. "Maybe this will be a good time for a break," he said to no one in particular as he turned and walked out the door.

=0=Nearby

Prime mused on the fun and games aka Ironhide v Ratchet chuckling once again. The idea that they were his parents was terribly amusing and even though he felt they would be amazing genitors he remembered his own with love. Bumblebee was in America with Sam and both would be coming out for a short stay in a couple of orns as per orders. Sam was going to be getting his regularly scheduled check up as the living repository of the Allspark. No one knew the long term effects of this situation but they also knew it resided in the boy's subspace with access on occasion to his psyche. 

It didn't disappear. It transformed.

He stood in the sunshine, the rain finally receding and absorbed the sunlight through his solar collectors. The warmth in his spark from the daffy machinations of two of his oldest closest friends was even greater and he thought about how he would even the score with Ironhide, something he seldom was able to do with the cunning older mech. This time however he was determined. He already had the plans laid down. He chuckled aloud drawing the attention of a passing clutch of femme organics walking together toward their office complex. They smiled and waved at him and he waved back smiling, turning to go as he did. He had things to do he considered. His step was light as he went.

 

#6: The game's afoot

=0=Medbay

Ironhide entered Medbay moving slowly, his optics peering into every corner and backroom as he inched his way to Ratchet's office. Computers purred as they fed data into the main nexus that was located at Teletraan II, the super computer in Ops Center. It was quiet and things were painfully neat as they prepared for the new Autobots due to arrive in a couple of joors.

He paused catching sight of Ratchet pouring over datapads, his desk cluttered with them. He walked to the door and paused, unwilling to get within swinging distance of his powerful unpredictable bond mate "Ratchet."

"What?" he answered distracted. Then Ratchet looked up spotting Ironhide. He froze, then turned picking up a wastebasket and with his arm swept the data pads into it, stuffed it under his desk. He then rose up and stood staring at Ironhide as if he did that sort of thing every day. "Ironhide, what can I do for you?"

Ironhide allowed his brow ridges to drop back from the other side of his head, then a suspicious expression demanded their co-operation. "Well for starters you can tell me what ***that*** was all about."

"What?" Ratchet asked, his face a textbook picture of innocence and barely contained competitive battle lust. "What do you need? I have to get ready for incoming."

"I know," Ironhide said moving to the side of Ratchet's desk, glancing under the rim at the basket underneath. Ratchet moved forward placing a servo on Ironhide's chest pushing him around the desk and into the far wall. Moving to stand well into Ironhide's personal space he touched his nose to the big mech's trapping him with intimate control. They stood together nose-to-nose and stared.

For the longest time neither gave an inch and then Ironhide blinked. "What are you meaning to do here, Ratchet and what is on those datapads?"

"Doctor privilege of some kind," Ratchet said smirking. "I'll determine what kind when I care more. Until then," he trailed off smokily, reaching downward to slip his fingers into Ironhide's armor. He found the seam that never failed and it didn't now, Ironhide's optics blinking rapidly as he found his libido programming snapping on with a nearly audible pop.

He reached down and clamped onto Ratchet's servo pulling it back up as he countered with his own move, slipping a leg around both of Ratchet's. He trapped the big mech pulling him in with an arm until he was held fast. "You have to be faster, Ratchet. I have you pinned."

"And you pinned yourself too," Ratchet said grinning. "Unless you know how to fly with a mech stuck to your privates." Ratchet reached down with his other servo and gripped Ironhide's aft.

Ironhide pondered the truth of those statements and decided they had reached impasse. It would require negotiations to see what they could do about resolving their plight. "You need to give me something so I can give **you** something."

"How about I get my hand back and you get to sleep on the berth tonight."

Ironhide considered that. "I get to anyway."

"Do you think so? A lot can happen to a mech in their recharge."

"That's true," Ironhide considered. "How about I give you back your servo and you put both of them on my aft?"

Ratchet chuckled and nodded. "You are a terrible bargainer," he said slipping his other hand onto Ironhide's aft.

"I don't know. I got this far and I'm not complaining," Ironhide said his low rumbling voice filled with amusement. "What's on the datapads?"

"Nothing you need to know now. A bot has to be allowed to plan their campaign without spies ruining the fun."

"I see," Ironhide said tightening his grip around Ratchet. "I think it would be good strategy for both sides in a war not to get too bitter. That way when one side loses they can live with their defeat."

"I will hope you don't get too bitter then," Ratchet said moving closer, rubbing his cheek against Ironhide's. The big mech closed his optics, the feel of Ratchet close to him as pleasurable and warm as it ever was. He laid his helm on Ratchet's shoulder and for a moment there was no war, only a peaceful truce.

First Aid and Sideswipe stood in the Medbay peeking at the two as they leaned against the wall silently embracing each other without the slightest animosity. Sunstreaker watching over their shoulder shook his head. He pulled the two back, moving out of view but not out of their vantage point as he glanced at his brother. "I will never understand old mechs."

Sideswipe snorted. "They might be you and Bluestreak some day, Sunny."

"I'll offline myself permanently first," Sunstreaker said shaking his head. "What the frag do you suppose those two are up to?"

"I don't know but the soldiers have a rumor and I can't get anyone to tell me," Sideswipe said shaking his head.

"Let me try," Sunstreaker said, a wolfish expression informing his features. With that the twins turned and left.

First Aid watched them go, then turned himself noting that it was taking an amorous turn in the office. Uncertain whether to stay and pretend he was deaf and blind or leave, he opted to leave.

"They're gone," Ironhide said his big servo rubbing Ratchet's back gently.

"I know," Ratchet said grinning. "Ready to resume fire?"

"Probably," Ironhide said smirking. "Seen our youngling today? I hear the grand kid is coming shortly."

Ratchet snorted and looked at Ironhide with genuinely loving optics. "You are beyond the ability to shame."

"You're right and you know that you wouldn't have it any other way," Ironhide said smiling with surety.

Ratchet leaned in and kissed Ironhide, the big mech embracing him tightly. "You know," Ironhide said breaking the kiss, "you can tell me what's on your mind and we can settle this like mechs."

"Not on your spark, bad boy," Ratchet said smiling.

Ironhide smiled and kissed Ratchet once more. "Then we're on again."

"Yes," Ratchet said standing up and moving back. They stared at each other, then Ironhide made his move. He tried to pass Ratchet but the big mech was faster and reaching under his desk pulled the bin out. They faced each other on either side of the desk feinting this way and that until the klaxon rang. Freezing, they listened as the call for personnel was made as the signal that incoming Autobots were sighted.

"Saved by the bell," Ratchet said straightening and holding his wastebasket with a sense of triumph.

"This time, Ratchet," Ironhide said turning to go to provide security at the landing site. "There is always next time." He strolled out of the room leaving it oddly bereft and Ratchet smiled. "We'll see, my lovely. The game's afoot and I don't plan to lose." With that he walked into another room and put the datapads into a hiding place, turning to drop the wastebasket under the corner of his desk. Grabbing a scanner and a small pack, he turned and walked out the door.

=0=Nearby at the landing zone

The sky was streaked with incoming as more Autobots found their way to Earth. Ten of them were arcing ground ward and it was almost as if Christmas, Easter and Halloween were wrapped up in one package and delivered albeit postage due at your doorstep.

That is if Christmas, Easter and Halloween were Autobot holidays.

Which they weren't.

Ironhide stood beside Optimus watching as Autobot after Autobot hit the designated landing zone with almost eerie accuracy. They reformed, their protoforms reflecting in the sunlight as each was met and escorted to the Autobot hangar complex by another mech. Ratchet was there too with First Aid and Hoist. He was supervising the newbies, checking to see if any of them required immediate attention. Ironhide watched him, an expression of dispassionate disinterest on his face even as he admired the dedication and efficiency of his intimate other half.

Optimus considering his options required about three or four of the new mechs so he looked them over carefully knowing that with the arrival of Bumblebee and Sam shortly that he would be able to twist the knife in a certain mech's back. He grinned at the thought watching as Springer and Kup materialized in the mix. Perfect, he thought watching them walk away with the twins who were overjoyed to see them both.

He stood in the sun nodding to each of the mechs as they saw him, feeling light as a feather even as he ran and reran every video clip that he had of Prowl in one corner of his processor. When this was over he was determined this time to plight his troth to the taciturn but comely winged vision of all his more intimate fantasies. Until then he would have to bite his tongue and wait.

 

#7: "Say hi to dear old dad."

The morning broke at last and the new mechs were greeted and hurrahed into the group. Will Lennox and Robert Epps were called in to meet with them and they brought Niall Graham with them, a Lieutenant from the United Kingdom who had become a mainstay in the human contingent. They sat on top of a table in the conference room and waited, the cacophonous sound of electronic chatter outside the door almost painful to listen to as the Autobots caught up with each other.

"Ten more mechs," Niall said walking to the edge of the table to look out through the crack in the door. He saw flashes of colors, different types of mechs with their different types of body configurations and heights and he smiled. Turning, he walked back to sit on his bench. "This will make it all the more interesting to our guys."

"They need to learn to shut their mouths too," Epps said nodding. "These aren't humans and they can't be judged on our standards. What is right for them is just right."

"Johnson and Hedges?" Niall replied.

"Yeah. I'm just about ready to sign off on them to be cut loose," Lennox said rising as the door opened and the senior Autobots came in for the weekly staff meeting.

Optimus Prime smiled and nodded to them followed by a sad looking Prowl. Prowl was hard to read but the overall affect was down turned as Niall glanced at the others for a moment. Jazz, Ironhide, Wheeljack, Ratchet and a new mech who was introduced as Springer entered as well taking their places around the big conference table.

"Welcome, Will and Robert," Optimus Prime said. "We have a new mech with us. Springer, this is Will Lennox, Captain and field commander of the N.E.S.T. soldiers of Earth and his second, Sargent Robert Epps. Also with them is a member of the United Kingdom Armed Forces, Lieutenant Niall Graham. Springer is a Wrecker and you can find out more about that from Ironhide as well as Springer later."

The new mech, green and yellow with a big smile and a friendly manner nodded, then glanced at Optimus with the strangest expression. It was a cross between adoration and lust. Epps blinked and Lennox swallowed. The other mechs at the table, all of them blinking as well noticed it too. Prowl swallowing hard and staring at the datapad in his servos was the only one not to stare. Optimus on the other hand smiled back giving Springer a lingering look of affection. It was very silent in the room.

"Well, now that introductions are over let's begin," Optimus said. And they did. It was fast, tension-filled and cleared the decks in record time. After it was all over the humans walked across the tarmac heading for their own barracks and office complex across the way. It was silent as they walked. Halfway across they paused, turning to look back at the Autobot HQ.

Optimus was outside standing in the sunlight with Springer. They were talking together head-to-head in a more than just a little bit intimate way. Springer moved closer putting his hand on Optimus' shoulder, then he ran it up and down a couple of times possessively. They chuckled, then Optimus nodded watching as Springer turned to go. Then Springer paused, turned and gave Optimus a light kiss on the lips. That was when he left and that was when the accumulated skulls of the three human soldiers exploded.

=0=Medbay

Ratchet walked to his desk and sat down considering the strange behavior of Optimus and Springer, a mech he had known since he was hot headed youngling who wanted to slap Decepticon aft. Optimus and Springer were actually flirting and didn't care who saw it. For a moment he thought the world had gone mad but then he also remembered that Optimus knew about Ironhide's prank. He sat and thought, tapping his fingers on the top of his desk, a slight smile on his face.

Looking through the door, wondering where Ratchet had put the datapads from earlier Ironhide felt an electrical surge of dread flowing through his chassis as he watched Ratchet sitting at his desk, a smile forming on his lips, his fingers tapping. It couldn't be good but then nothing was actually going too well right now. 

Optimus had actually flirted, ***flirted*** at the staff meeting. It had scandalized all of them and the word had gotten out, ***thank you, Wheeljack*,** Now everyone was pestering him for the 'straight stuff'. He could probably use some of the straight stuff himself and with the Autobot equivalent of a sigh he turned and walked away hoping that Wheeljack had a stash of high octane in the house of horrors he called a lab.

=0=Ops Center

Prowl sat disturbed, bothered and bewildered by the show Optimus made with Springer. He looked at the pad in his hand and reread it for the fourth time, the words going in one audial and out the other. Moving to sit at Teletraan II he considered his life so far. He was a … catch, he thought. He had skills and gave a nice appearance. But he wasn't social. If he wanted to be brutally honest and he usually was he was socially inept. In the milieu of his work he was a god, someone who could adapt and come to the peak of whatever part of himself was needed. But in the realm of romance and interpersonal relationships he was still a sparkling, a youngling geek, a …

He paused considering the fifteen thousand words for failure in English alone that his initial internet search had pulled up. That didn't even count the other language databases available. He was a cast off dork in just about one hundred eighty-nine languages and dialects from this world alone and it was a big, big galaxy out there.

He felt it too.

Optimus Prime had seemed like he was feeling something for him and now he was schmoozing with Springer like a long lost bond mate. He felt like slag circling the Pit. He put down the datapad wondering if Wheeljack had any high grade stashed in his lab. He could use a stiff one right now and he almost never drank. Maybe things would be changing as he stared at life alone, a life that spread out before him, probably dead ending somewhere around the bend of Alpha Centauri. With utter dejection and sorrow Prowl of Praxus turned and went back to the only true blue lover he ever had.

His job.

=0=Cleared to land at Diego Garcia

The plane was circling around for a landing and Sam jolted awake, swaying in the harness that passed for seating on the transport plane. Bumblebee had picked him up at college, drove them to the airport and the commercial transport. Good old Brown had taken them to Dulles where they caught this army plane for the long haul to Diego Garcia. He was bone tired but Bee wasn't. Bee was actually extremely happy, perhaps even hyper and ready to be among the others at Diego.

"Hey, Bee," Sam said. "We're coming in for a landing."

The Camaro tied down under a net flashed his lights, a happy tune popping up on the radio. Sam smiled feeling glad that Bee would be around his kind again. He obviously needed the time. "Sam."

"What, Bee?" Sam replied.

"There's going to be new mechs at Diego."

"Who, do you know?"

"I hear that Springer and Kup are there."

"Who are they?" Sam asked.

"Wreckers," Bee replied. "And Springer, you'll like him a lot."

"You'll have to introduce me when we get there," Sam replied grinning. "I'm glad for you, Bee," he said as an airman strolled back to tell them they were going to be landing. They hunkered down and when the plane taxied to a stop the airman removed the bindings on Bumblebee as Sam climbed in, the Camaro rolling down the ramp when it was down.

Diego Garcia was sunny and warm, the monsoon season almost past and when Bee rolled to a stop Sam stepped out onto damp asphalt and the greetings of Optimus Prime, Ironhide and a tall green and yellow mech. Bee transforming and hollering ran toward the mech Sam deduced was Springer, jumping into his arms. The mech laughed and spun Bee around, Optimus beaming as if he had invented the mini-con himself. Ironhide glancing from Springer to Optimus to Sam and back to Springer had a baffled expression on his face. Optimus gestured for Sam to step forward and with out any hesitation made the introductions. "Sam, this is Springer. Springer, this is Sam, the Allspark. And I believe you know Will Lennox, Robert Epps and Niall Graham, Sam."

Sam nodded grinning at the soldiers who were sitting on a hummer close-at-hand.

Springer hearing Sam's name and being aware of events in the past became serious instantly as he held Bee like a baby on his hip. He gave a solemn nod. "My pleasure," he said with a nice modulated accent-free voice.

"Nice to meet you too, Springer," Sam replied. "Bee had been in a tizzy to come here and has been happy about more mechs arriving. He even mentioned you."

Bee looked at Sam, his optics glowing as brightly as the big mech who held him. Then Springer smiled looking at Bee like his sparker, kissing Bee on the head. Sam looked from a beaming Bee to an equally beaming Prime. Ironhide standing between everyone looked as mixed up as Sam. Springer smiled at Optimus, his gaze lingering as he did. "It is good to be here with Bumblebee."

"Yes," Optimus said nodding. "Springer is Bumblebee's genitor."

Bee hugged Springer's neck as Sam looked at them for a moment without comprehension. "Bee is your youngling, your sparkling then, your son?" Sam asked sputtering through designations as he looked at Springer.

Springer nodded kissing Bee's head once again. "Yes, Bumblebee is our sparkling," he said.

Three other mechs stepped from the hangar drawn by the lure of Bee's return and the added mystifying spectacle unfolding before them. Two new mechs and one old one, Hound, Kup and Ratchet stepped up. Another new Autobot, the only femme on base, Arcee, already was standing behind Optimus and stepped up. She smiled. "Bee's whole family is here, Sam. I'm Arcee."

Sam nodded at Arcee dazzled by the idea that Bee who didn't talk about his family much if at all had them around him now. "So let me see if I understand you. Springer, you're one of his genitors, his parents."

Springer nodded.

"Who else is family here?" Sam asked closing the loop and putting the cherry right on top of the fragmentation grenade.

"I am Optimus' sister, Arcee, Bee's aunt. This is Hound, Optimus' and my younger brother." The green Autobot smiled and nodded. "This is Kup," she said. "He's our great grandfather if you will, Springer's grandfather."

Kup grinned and nodded, hilarity circling like a comet around his battered aged head. "Good to meet the Allspark and any friend of my little great grand sparkling is a friend of mine."

Optimus struggled to keep himself in check as he watched Ironhide's incredulity rise with each revelation. Ratchet standing behind Arcee watched first with surprise, then with an almost feral sense of glee. He moved behind Ironhide, standing to catch him if he glitched which he looked like he would.

"Wow, Bee! Your great grandpa, your aunt and uncle," Sam said genuinely happy for the smiling little mini-con held in the arms of one of his genitors. "Who is your other genitor?"

Optimus gathered himself moving to stand in front of Springer, positioning himself so that Ironhide could see his face as well as the soldiers, cleared his throat, a thoroughly dramatic and physically nonessential action. "Why, Sam, all his family is here. I am the other genitor of Bumblebee."

The shock on Sam's face was matched only by the shock on the faces of the three soldiers. It was dead silent, then Optimus dropped the coup de grace. "And Bee's grandparents, my own genitors or parents actually are also here." He turned toward Ironhide whose optics were as big as steering wheels. "I know you know them. Meet my mother and father, my genitors, Ironhide and Ratchet."

You could have heard a pin drop. Or better yet you could hear Prowl drop nearby as his processor glitched and he fell over backward to the concrete floor below.

 

#8: "Wha?" Part 2

=0=Late that night

Ironhide sat on the edge of his berth in the darkness while behind him supposedly recharging was the recumbent form of his dearly beloved, Ratchet. He sat staring into space considering the day's revelations and mentally counting his fingers, checking to make sure that indeed he had still five on each servo. The prank that he had begun had been a defensive reaction to a slight to Ratchet. He never told that to the big incredulous mech but it was so. He loved Ratchet with all his spark and preferred to show him so rather than sputter through words which were not his long suit.

The prank was amusing, brilliant actually and the soldiers had fallen for it. Yet somehow in some way he couldn't understand clearly it ignited something deeply evil and cunning in the spark of Ratchet then spread in a way he was still trying to figure out to Optimus Prime.

***Optimus Prime*! *A FRAGGIN' PRIME*!**

The slight buzz of processor fritz helped on by copious amounts of high grade ingested from earlier hit him and he paused allowing heat to vent as quietly as he could as he tried to calm down. A fraggin' Prime was either pranking his aft back with the help of almost everyone he turned around to see or else he had stepped into a parallel universe.

The part about genitorhood was a joke, that much Ironhide could parse. Obviously if they had sparked a Prime and Hound and Arcee of all things he would have remembered that. He would have been there to cheer Ratchet on. He snorted. ***Frag, yeah***. It would be a cold day in the Pit before it would have been him carrying anything beyond a laser canon or a cube of high grade. He wasn't built that way, Primus knew. He was Ironhide, berserker front liner, right hand go-to mech of the Prime and all around Chaos Bringer of the Autobots.

He froze as Ratchet stirred then settled apparently having nightmares of his own. He glanced over appreciating the curve of Ratchet's shoulder and the shadow of his neck, a place Ironhide had spent a lot of time grazing in past encounters with the irascible recipient of his spark's total and completely deep affections. He turned back and considered what could be true. Either he had stumbled onto a deeply held secret that no one had ever heard about and only now the Prime was allowing known or he was pranked down to his peds without spare. By everyone on base including the most recently arrived. It was impossible. 

He hoped.

Optimus was a proud mech, someone with almost as much dignity as patience and Primus knew he had patience. Yet would he stoop so low as to resort to a prank, especially one as complicated and huge as this one? Could he have enlisted the aid of Arcee, Hound, Springer and Bee? Bumblebee maybe. That little fragger was a great little mech but he was a youngling wiseacre, a pranker of great and longstanding tradition.

Arcee was about his age and would know better. Kup probably did believe he was Bee's great grand progenitor, the senile old aft and Hound? He would do this. Hound was funny and loved them all. He would do this for Optimus. 

Probably. 

Springer.

Spr-ing-er.

Spring. Er.

He thought about the Wrecker, the one truly nonplussing part of the whole thing.

Nonplussing. Nice word, Ironhide he said to himself, sidetracking for just a moment. The high grade he had with Prowl and Wheeljack was really kicking his aft. He suppressed a giggle and peered over his shoulder at Ratchet, again noticing no change. Looking back at the far wall once more he struggled to understand how he had suddenly acquired a family from the innocent joke he had perpetuated upon the slaggers at the firing range.

"Ironhide."

He froze. "Ratchet."

"It's late and you're fragged. What have you been doing? You missed the first meal together our family has had in literally vorns."

For a moment Ironhide just ran that through his processors and then he turned gazing down at Ratchet. "Wha?" he managed his optics bright with confusion.

"Our **family** ," Ratchet said irritably. "We had a meal together and you weren't there. I will tell you again, Ironhide. I am not going to keep making excuses to the younglings about why you aren't at special occasions."

Ironhide blinked, then he turned adjusting his optics to night vision searching Ratchet's face for the smirk. There wasn't any. He felt the fritz coming on, then discounted it for his semi-drunken condition. Turning to lie down beside Ratchet, propping himself on his side by his elbow he stared into Ratchet's apparently angry face.

"You disappointed your grand sparkling. It's been a while since Bumblebee has been able to be here with the family and you weren't there. And you disappointed him in front of the Allspark."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet checking his facial expressions for the slip, the seam, the tell that would give him an opening to the joke but it wasn't there. Ratchet was completely serious. He opened his mouth, then closed it speechless at that moment. Ratchet turned himself to the wall, his back to Ironhide, a storm cloud of irritation hanging over his entire form.

Ironhide stared at him putting a hand on his shoulder. Ratchet shrugged it off. "I'm angry for Bee and the younglings. I don't think it's a lot to ask, Ironhide, for you to be at the first meal we can have when they've all come together. Arcee is pre-bonded. Did you know that? No, you were getting drunk with Prowl and Wheeljack. You couldn't even be there to see her excitement. Our only femme, our only little girl and you weren't there."

Ironhide felt the doom of Unicron fall over him and he lay back staring at the ceiling. He would still be in the morning.

=0=Earlier

A call to the many was made by the few. Actually, it was the one and they came happy to see him and gather in his office. Prime smiled and asked them to sit, allowing his inner youngling to emerge. "I am glad you came. I have a proposition to make and I would hope if you didn't agree to join this … operation you would keep it in the strictest and I mean **strictest** confidence."

They all agreed. Then he explained the points of the operation, the background bringing laughter like he hadn't heard in his office in many an orn. He grinned waiting for them to subside. Then he explained his plan, outlining all the mobile and stationary parts, the general stated goals and the predicted endgame they were shooting for. They all nodded, grinning with excitement at the prospect of bringing down a formidable foe with teamwork and the will of Primus. For surely after what Ironside had done to all of them in a long life of hilarity and pranks they were owed.

Springer, leaning forward asked a few pertinent questions of his own given that he was a leading character in the charades to follow. "How long will this last, will it be culminated by your decision alone or will we all have equal voice in termination? It could be that it's such a great plan that some of us might want to continue to carry it through to the end while others might … how do I put this? … wimp out?" he said trying out a new word from the database he had downloaded into his core databanks.

"He got you good once?" Prime asked.

"Beyond the pale," Springer said grinning.

"Well, I guess we could vote to end it as a committee," Prime speculated.

"That would be great," Hound replied chuckling. "I love Ironhide but he has payback coming just from me."

"Ironhide has never pranked me," Arcee said with a grin. "I guess he is more of a gentlemen with femmes. But I'm in."

Bumblebee listening over an encrypted comm line chuckled. "You know you can count me in."

"Then we're all in agreement," Prime said glancing at Kup who nodded with a grin. "Then Operation Frag Ironhide's Aft is to commence tomorrow when Bumblebee arrives. I want everyone on the tarmac when Bee drives up. I want everyone to wait until then to do their part but for you, Springer. We have a weekly meeting with the soldiers tomorrow and you can begin then. They were the spark to ignite this lunacy and they need to be fragged too."

Everyone nodded, rose and left, chuckling at the idea that now they were family and their 'parents' didn't have a slagging clue. Prime sat back incredibly satisfied and as he did he forgot one little item of great importance: Prowl.

=0=Later, the night of Operation Frag Ironhide's Aft

A knock on the door pulled Wheeljack from his reveries and he called out. "Enter."

The door opened and Prowl peeked around tentatively peering inside. "Wheeljack?" He looked around and saw no one until a sound attracted his attention. A flash of yellow light and a helm peering around a desk drew his optics. "Wheeljack? Are you alright? What are you doing on the floor?"

A bottle materialized upward from the desk held in a powerful black servo. "Prowl, get in here. We're tying one on."

"Tying what on, Ironhide?" Prowl asked moving to stand by the desk, looking down at two drunk mechs sitting side by side on the floor.

"The sweat of Unicron that's what. Have some," Ironhide said holding out the bottle to Prowl.

Prowl feeling propriety rising took the bottle and paused uncertainty warring with a crushed spark. The crushed spark won and he moved sitting down next to Wheeljack. He sniffed the bottle, the smell a cross between window cleaner and bacon grease. "What's in this?" he asked tentatively taking a sip. He gagged and felt it burn as it slid downward into his fuel tanks.

"You don't want to know. Just know it was made with love, right, Ironhide?" Wheeljack slurred giggling slightly as he reached for the bottle.

"Don't speak to ***me*** about love," Ironhide bellowed. "I don't have a slaggin' clue about it."

"Nor do I," Prowl replied, his optics filling with coolant as his sorrows rose in his processor. He took back the bottle and drew a long drink, frowning and squinting as it coursed its way downward like a pad of steel wool. Handing the bottle back to Wheeljack who gave it to Ironhide, he leaned back feeling the loosening of his inhibitions as the liquid did its job. "What is love anyway?" he asked to no one in particular.

"You give your entire life to a … a bond mate and what do you get?" Ironhide asked.

"Don't ask me," Wheeljack said sadly. "I'm all alone."

"You and me, Wheeljack, alone," Prowl said sniffling. He took the bottle and drank another draught, one so big he almost gagged. He handed it back to Wheeljack who had it until Ironhide grabbed it. "I had ***dreams*** ," Prowl continued. "I had dreams and … and ***hopes*** and slag. Now? What do I have?"

Both Ironhide and Wheeljack looked at him. Prowl looked at them, his face scrunched in misery. "What do you have, Prowler?" Ironhide asked gently, passing him the bottle and pulling out another one.

"Nothin'," Prowl slurred taking another big drink. "I don't have a slaggin' thing."

"I didn't know you swore, Prowl," Wheeljack slurred suddenly filled with maudlin sorrow for the sad distraught winger.

"I don't. Didn't until now, mostly. My genitors didn't allow it. Did I tell you about them? They wouldn't allow it. Well guess what?" he said looking at the ceiling, for their faces perhaps.

Wheeljack and Ironhide looked up too, bottles poised at their mouths.

"I don't fraggin' care!" Prowl said grabbing a bottle away from Wheeljack. He turned and looked at the two mechs, one with a bottle and the other searching his hands for the one he thought he just had. "Here's to fraggin' love. Here's to broken dreams … and hope and slag."

Ironhide and Prowl clicked their bottles, Wheeljack reaching and failing to grab one and the two knocked them back drinking long and deep.

"Here's to a broken spark and to a bond mate that is a slaggin' traitor," Ironhide said. Then he paused. "Here's to a slaggin' treacherous bond mate that's the bestest old mech in the galaxy. No, the whole universe."

Prowl looked at Ironhide noting that there were two of them now and nodded. "And here's to the best fraggin' Prime in the galaxy and whole universe. And the Matrix too," he said pausing in sadness. "To the best fraggin' two-faced tease that ever lived."

Ironhide thinking he was talking about Ratchet nodded. "I'll drink to that."

Wheeljack watching and nodding, his own despairs on display reached for a bottle taking the one that Prowl held. "I'll drink to that too whatever the frag you're talking about."

And he did.

 

#9: "Sin in haste, repent in leisure."

=0=In a darkened room near Wheeljack's lab

He sat on the berth clearly listing to one side as he tried to move, his processor circling the outer rings of Saturn. He had never before outside of combat felt so wretched and he could almost remember some of the shenanigans that happened while he took his walk on the wild side. They involved others and he prayed with what little propriety he had left that they were done in a place that would not have allowed him to be too big a fool.

Fool.

That is what he was, Prowl thought. At least, he thought around the edges of a thought because the idea of actually articulating a full blooded thought made him want to purge his tanks. He wondered in the tattered edges of his sentience how the twins could do this so often and not die.

=0=In a darkened room that was Wheeljack's lab

He came to the surface of a big sea of yellow, his systems caterwauling their extreme displeasure as they did. He licked his lips finding that his tongue felt as big as Sideswipe's basketball. That would not do Wheeljack thought, then he didn't. It hurt across his circuits down to the energy port that dared not speak its name. Or rather saw little coed use but for a curious owner exerting attention on the odd nights when the moon and a card game weren't enough.

"I must be at the Matrix," Wheeljack whispered, his lights muted in the muddy versions of colors they threw up. Then he turned to the side and actually threw up. It too wasn't very colorful.

=0=In a darkened room that wasn't Wheeljack's lab or Prowl's quarters

Ratchet stared down at the silent figure of his dearly beloved and smirked. Ironhide's size, his imposing persona that intimidated everyone but him and his general wonderfulness never failed to tug at his spark. A lot of racy memories flooded upward and he considered that they hadn't 'faced in a while. The thought of it sort of took over his processor for a moment then the beep of his internal comm line kicked that football into the Pit.

Beep!

:What the ***hell*** do you want?:

:You're full of sunshine this morning:

:Oh, good morning, Prime. What can I do for you?:

:I wanted to know how Prowl is … was … is now:

Ratchet shook his helm, the sound in Prime's voice was of guilt, a wavering will and an unrequited lust that could peel paint off walls. :He was fine when he left. Don't let it bother you. I am sure he's up and at 'em just like usual:

:I'm sure you're right, Ratchet. I'll see you at the staff meeting shortly:

:Oh count on it: Ratchet said, his voice filled with mirth shaped malice. :Ratchet out:

=0=In a darkened room near Wheeljack's lab

He crawled on his hands and knees to his couch and pulled himself up, every movement of his body jarring the jet plane that was tuning its engines in his processor. He felt his tanks churning and hoped against hope that he would not upchuck. Of all the nasty things a mech could do puking on your peds after a night that you couldn't even remember was the lowest.

=0=In a darkened room that **was** Wheeljack's lab

He looked at the pool of regurgitated energon and high grade, the colors mixing into a pleasing aesthetic even as the smell drove Wheeljack to try to turn over. He did and found himself pinned against the wall, the couch and his worktable leaving him very little options for movement. He looked around then lay his helm back down blinking his bleary optics for a moment. "Look at the dust bunnies," he mused before passing out once more.

=0=In a not so darkened room that wasn't Wheeljack's lab or Prowl's quarters

Ratchet did his best to make as much noise as he could clanging things together and taking the time to cock and sight down a rifle that heretofore had just been leaning against the wall in the far corner.

Hearing the tumult at last, rising up like a killer whale trying to elude a harpoon Ironhide bellowed in surprise. Then he wished he hadn't as he fell back down, the struts of the berth groaning under the 4.8 metric tons of his awesomeness. Or at least that is how Ratchet thought of it. 

His awesomeness. 

That is what Ironhide meant to Ratchet but he didn't tell him unless he was completely blotto or in the throws of intense facing. Then the words wouldn't stop flowing and he was given to any manner of nonsense. But that was another time and place Ratchet thought as he got his mind off Ironhide's figure and back on the goals at hand.

Right now messing with the big mech in his condition, a part of him was ashamed. But it was only a small part, the 'doctor do no harm part' and he smiled knowing the power ultimately he had over the big doofus. "Feeling your energon are ya?" he asked blandly, folding his arms over his chassis.

An optic ventured to open then shut as Ironhide dealt with the avalanche currently thundering through his processor. He opened his mouth, considered how long he could speak before he ripped his own throat out and began. "You win. Antidote."

Ratchet snorted moving closer to peer down into the mass of black metal, armor and fabulousness that was his bond. "What makes you think I will give you the antidote."

"Because," Ironhide squeezed out, "If I go to the Matrix, you go too. Deal, old mech."

Ratchet smirked and reached into subspace pulling out a pad. He made a show of reading it, pushing Ironhide as far as he dared, then transformed a finger pushing without sparing the pain a needle into an energon line near his neck. Ironhide grimaced in spite of himself, then the blessed relief came down from Primus. It flooded him with a sense of cooling, with the idea that yes, Ratchet, there will be a tomorrow and as it did he felt his libidinous programming perking up. He opened an optic and gave Ratchet a wary glance. "What's with the sexy stuff?" he asked.

Ratchet turned from where he was messing with the table's ubiquitous pile of Ironhide's slag, looking at his bond with a quizzical eye. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about all of a sudden I want to interface. Badly. Truly badly."

"Well, Ironhide, I would love to accommodate you but we have a staff meeting in just a few joors and I don't have time to be your fence post." With that Ratchet turned and left the room closing the door behind him.

Fence post.

…Initiate. Access. Search function: Fence post, noun. Scan of most used definitions. Acquired appropriate information... download initiated. Access concluded…

Fence post. Ha!

Ironhide sat up, his head clearing even though his nether regions began to fog over. He moved to rise and a shimmering feeling of lust powered through his core. He sat down afraid to move lest he overload himself before he reached the door. He frowned deeply, his internal chronometer telling him that he had only a half a joor to be on time to the morning senior Autobots staff meeting.

Round two to Ratchet, Ironhide said looking down at his crotch area. This was going to be a tough one, he thought. A tough one indeed.

=0=In a darkened room that was also Wheeljack's lab

He lay on his side sort of wedged into the couch and considered that it could be worse. He could be laying the other way in the middle of his own vomit. The night before was a clouded thing and he didn't try too hard to make it all go away. He just decided that if he went back into a stuperous recharge one of three things would happen. First, someone might miss him and come looking. That was the most likely scenario. Two, he might be able to get up himself and save himself an Ark load of embarrassment. Not as highly likely considering his feet felt like they were in another room. Or third, he could be here through the next millennium.

He sniffled. ***I'm alone*** he thought maudlingly, the echo of that feeling floating to him over the fumes of his own vomit as he unconsciously repeated himself from the night before. He closed his optics and fell into recharge. Or as he later called it, possibility four.

=0=In a cabin that wasn't Wheeljack's lab or Ironhide's den of "What am I going to do, slag it, Ratchet!"

Prowl pulled himself up and tottered over to the door. He leaned against it cursing his weakness and neediness. It was all Prime's fault. He had led him on. Or so he thought. He had thought he did given the sweetness he had shown Prowl over the past few orns in particular. Then again he could be deluding himself.

If Prime was bonded and it appeared he was then there was no leading going on. It was his own processor running away with him leaving him perched on the lip of the volcano of "Never, No Way, No How." Bumblebee had played that tune earlier and he sort of had it stuck in his processor.

Bumblebee.

Prime's ***youngling***.

Arcee, Hound … ***HOUND*** and Kup. ***Kup*!?**

Springer. 

Springer was a good looking mech, taller than he was and sort of ultra masculine. He himself Prowl thought was more the subtle type. He was a thinker and the Wreckers were maddening doers. The two clashed over tactics. Prowl had them and Springer didn't usually. All in all, they were total opposites but he had never not respected in most ways and enjoyed the company of the handsome mech.

Well maybe not handsome. Maybe he was just strong featured and rugged. Maybe that was why Prime was ***BONDED TO HIM***!

He paused, then sniffled cursing himself as he did for being such a crybaby.

Another song of Bumblebee, Crybaby.

Bumblebee.

Bumblebee Prime.

Prowl shook his head and instantly froze as the contents of his helm sloshed from one side to the other. Then he gave in. Leaning pitifully against the door unable to move in any direction at all, he commed Medbay.

:Prowl to Medbay:

:Well, the last of the musketeers checks in. I have Wheeljack here in a basket. I suppose you want me to perform some magic on you as well:

:Ratchet, get over here. That's an order. Prowl out:

Ratchet snickered looking over at Preceptor who had found Wheeljack lying half-wedged under his couch. He had half-carried, half-dragged the mech in and helped him to lie down on a berth. "Perceptor, watch him. I have a house call to make."

"What about Ironhide? 'Jack says he's somewhere."

"Don't worry about Ironhide. I took care of him already," Ratchet said turning to walk out the door with a grim smile.

"Well, I guess that's that then. Don't worry, 'Jack. Ratchet took care of Ironhide already."

Wheeljack could only manage a wan smile. Ironhide on the other hand …

=0=TBC 

 

 


	3. The Diego Diaries: 16-30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beat (down) goes on.

=0=#16

 

The Diego Diaries: "Isn't it sad …?"

 

=0=In an Autobot's quarters, boy's night in

"I thought my processor would explode. Its bad enough that you know, but to see it...” The expression on Sunstreaker's face was priceless and Sideswipe lounging on his berth just ate it up.

"What do you expect? They're spark bonded," he said.

"Not in public. Not in front of … of impressionable minds," Sunny whined, shaking his helm.

"I think it's cute," Sideswipe said grinning at his brother who shot him a look that could curdle milk. "You didn't see it. You had to be there," Sunny retorted.

"There are worse," Sideswipe said considering the couples that existed in the world that could be so much more gruesome than a little Hatchet-Ironhide snogging.

"Name one," Sunstreaker said goading his brother on.

Sides thought a moment, then grinned. "Megatron and Starscream."

Smokescreen laying on the other berth with a still sore but essentially healed leg groaned. "That is a picture I don't need in my processor."

"Welcome to my world," Sunstreaker said smirking. "Actually, imagine it. Megatron and Screamer. I wonder if he is?"

They all groaned as Sideswipe kicked his brother. It settled a moment. Smokescreen smiled. "What?" Sunny asked sitting back against the wall, the ball they used for 'basketball' bouncing in his hands, one to the other. "Tell, Smokey."

Smokescreen had the good grace to look abashed but he said it anyway. "Prime and Prowl."

It was quiet for a moment, the twins and the others mulling it over, then Sunny shook his head. "Prowl in the sack. I don't know. I don't know how you can keep the icicles off your prong."

Groans bloomed like roses in the room as Bumblebee and Blaster joined in, shaking their heads at the golden Lamborghini who sat smirking with satisfaction. "You know it's true!" he said laughing. "Just ask Starscream."

Laughter greeted that remark. Then Sideswipe shook his head. "Starscream. What a terrible 'face that would be. I can't imagine."

"He's in a trine with two other idiots," Smokescreen said smiling. "I wonder what a trine would be like?" he said looking pointedly at Bumblebee as he said it.

Bee surprised shook his head. "You never know until you ask."

They all laughed out loud noisily, then Blaster elbowed Bee. "His heart belongs to the Allspark. Its a religious thing," he said as Bee leaned over and shoved him to the floor. Blaster laughing didn't fight the mini-con but surrendered, Bee sitting back up with a huge grin on his face.

"That's you, Bee," Sunstreaker said, a knowing smirk on his face. "Religious."

Guffaws met that remark and it got still for a moment. "Sunny, how's Blue and when can he get out?" Blaster asked.

"I don't know about getting out but he's doing pretty good. That slaggin' Ravage. If he comes back again, he's mine." The look of predatory hatred on Sunstreaker's face was cautionary. Then Sideswipe tapped him with his ped. "Do you really think Prime and Prowl are a bad match up?" he asked.

Sunstreaker thought a moment, then shrugged. "He's not my cup of tea. I don't begrudge him wanting to be with someone but I've never seen it."

"I heard he was with Sentinel," Blaster offered as he combed his databanks for details to find nothing firm.

"He's been S.I.C. since before the birth of Unicron. He's been through two Primes before Optimus," Sunny replied. "He's always been paired off with the Prime at hand by everyone with an opinion. It's because our Prowler has no life that anyone can find, even with Perceptor looking."

It was silent a moment. "That's sad," Bee said. He thought back to his own interactions with Sentinel Prime when he was Sentinel Minor and in charge of his boot camp experience. There were 'misunderstandings' and Bee had found himself in the courtyard one night holding fuel barrels in each arm repeating "I'm a worthless oil stain, I'm a worthless oil stain" over and over. He shrugged. "Sentinel is a glitch head. All due respect..." he trailed off.

"You can't get over that moment can you?" Smokescreen said with a grin. "You almost flattened Sentinel when those things tipped over on him. You were lucky you weren't turned into garbage can liners."

"With *all due respect*," Bumblebee replied waggling his optic ridges.

They laughed, then Sideswipe thought out loud: "It seems so sad that poor Prowler has no one. Don't you think that is sad?"

To his surprise, most of the room did.

=0=Wheeljack's lab

First Aid sat on the couch, his angst angsting as Wheeljack provided the shoulder. "I don't understand. They are on, then off, then on again. I can't keep it straight. And I can't get them out of my head wrestling in the lab." He looked at Wheeljack who was looking back at him with a fond gentle expression. "Do you know?"

"I do," Wheeljack said smiling behind his blast mask. "I've known Ratchet for such a long time. When he and Ironhide hooked up, no one could get it for a while and some still don't. But they are spark mates, two sparks destined to be together. They have a public face and a private one, a loving intense private side. You just happened to see them as they are to each other."

First Aid considered that and shook his head. "It's pretty nice. Ironhide is sort of huge and interesting."

"That he is," Wheeljack said, laughing. "Most people don't get how smart he is because he's ready to fight at the drop of a hat. That is programming. The best part of him, the part that glitches your processor comes out around Ratchet. And with Ratchet, the funny side, the good side comes out too. They compliment each other."

First Aid sat back and nodded. "Thank you, Wheeljack. I just wonder if its safe to go back."

"You never know until you try."

He grinned and patted Wheeljack's leg. "Thank you. I better get back. I have to check on Bluestreak."

"How is he?" Wheeljack asked as he stood up too.

"He's going to be off duty a few orns but he's going to be alright."

"Good," Wheeljack said smiling. He walked First Aid to the door and as he did First Aid paused turning to look at the engineer. "Uh, the next time you decide to tie one on let me know."

Wheeljack snickered. "I will."

With that, First Aid left the room. A bubbling sound attracted Wheeljack's attention away from First Aid's nice shapely aft and with a shake of his head, he turned and walked back to the table to work.

=0=At the soldier's barracks

They sat together, soldiers from the same training group polishing and cleaning gear and weapons. The soldiers who had left on the mission were being grilled by those who weren't. They were curious about the mission and working with the big bots. One of them, a big corporal named James 'Big Jim' Johnson listened, his arms crossed over a very muscular chest, his feet resting on his foot locker. "So what's it like fighting with them?" he asked.

Arne Feltman looked up, the barrel of his rifle held in his hands as he cleaned it having first broken the weapon down. "Awesome. Ironhide is the man. The mech," he said correcting himself. "All of them are awesome. Bluestreak is just a kid I hear but he's got a pair. And Mirage … the first time I saw him disappear I almost crapped my pants."

Johnson nodded, the oddities appealing even if the delivery system was not. "What are they like together? How do they act?"

Feltman glanced at his bunk neighbor, a soldier named Oscar Richards. Richards shrugged. "They're pros. They know what they're doing and they save it for the battlefield."

"You didn't go with Ratchet did you?" Johnson asked.

"No. He was with the Prague squad that went with the Prime. We were with Ironhide, Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Mirage."

"I went to Prague with Ratchet and the others," Tom Seldon said glancing at Johnson as he reached for his beer. Polishing stuff was thirsty work. "Why?"

"I just heard a lot of stuff about that one and I wondered what he was really like. From our perspective," Johnson replied.

"He's one tough bastard and a sweet ride," Seldon said oblivious to the double entendre as he considered the seats in the Hummer that was Ratchet. They formed to fit your backside and that was awesome in his book among other things.

Johnson snorted. "I guess I would have to ask Ironhide about that."

The three soldiers glanced up at him various expressions of surprise and distaste on their faces. They glanced at each other, all of them having heard disparaging remarks from the soldier and his friend, Sam Hedges before. They were perpetually on the wrong side of Epps and Lennox and it was considered likely that they would be cut if they didn't change or learn to shut their faces.

"That kind of remark will get you cut from here," Oscar said glaring at the big soldier.

"I'm good at what I do. I can shoot, run and jump just about as well as anyone here. Better," Johnson said without a shred of humility.

"Remind you of someone?" Feltman asked grinning.

"It sure does," Oscar said with a chuckle. "Your favorite car doesn't happen to be a Lamborghini does it?"

"Which ones are the Lamborghinis?" Johnson asked after thinking for a moment.

"Man, you don't even have them **memorized**? What kind of problem do you have, Johnson?" Feltman asked, his irritation boiling over. He liked Sideswipe. Most of them did. They were aware of his vain mercurial brother and although he wasn't the most liked Autobot he was feared and respected for his unbelievable skills and courage. Sunstreaker was in short afraid of nothing.

"I don't have a problem," Johnson said picking up his beer and sipping it. " **They** do."

"How?" Oscar asked pausing in his effort. As he spoke Sam Hedges came through the door and walked toward them sitting on his bunk. He tapped Johnson. "There's an Autobot outside. He wants to speak to you."

Johnson looked at him surprised. "Which one? Who?" he asked, a trace of concern in his voice.

"The yellow Lamborghini," Hedges said shaking his head. "He's outside and he's locked and loaded. What the fuck did you do to him?"

Johnson sat up, concern finally showing on his facade. "Nothing. What does he want?"

"He wants to talk to you. Why, I wasn't going to ask the bastard. He's asking for you, not me." Hedges got up and walked to the window peering outside. A huge Autobot was there standing on his wheel skates, all twenty-five feet two inches, two point nine metric tons of lethal front-liner gleaming in the sunlight. Sunstreaker was waiting, his battle blades retracting into and disgorging out from his wrists, his door winglets flaring and residing with what they took for irritation. He looked good, really good and gleamed a brilliant yellow, waxed, beautiful and waiting for Johnson.

The others including four soldiers who were talking together at the other end of the barracks came forward and looked out the window together.

Sunstreaker. The 'crazy one'.

They all looked at Johnson who was staring out the window, a paler shade of himself than before. "I'm not going out there."

"Have you considered that if he wants you badly enough this barracks won't hold him?" Oscar said watching as emotions of all kinds played across the big tough's face. "What the **hell** did you do to him?"

"Nothing! I didn't **do** a thing!" Johnson said fear finally breaking across his face.

"I'll go out," Feltman said turning to put his rifle barrel down. He turned back as Johnson stepped in front of him. "Are you **nuts**? **Look at him.** He could **kill you** just by stepping on you."

"Why would he? He isn't asking for me and I didn't do anything to him," Feltman said moving Johnson's hand from his chest.

"He's an **alien**. You don't even **know** what pisses him off," Johnson said turning to watch as seven foot swords slid in and out of his wrist gauntlets. He was turning small circles, his face returning with each movement to remain on the barracks.

" **I** didn't piss him off and **I'm** not a pussy," Feltman said pushing past Johnson. He moved to the door and collected himself putting on his game face. He opened the door and walked outside catching the big mech's attention right away.

They watched as he walked to Sunstreaker hollering up to him and they watched as the big mech bent down, his fearsome face framed with peaks and other metallic embellishments that swept from his jawline up to the top of his head moving close to Feltman. His blue optics were intent on the conversation he was having with Feltman and from time to time he would glance up to stare at the barracks. They could hear the sound of a high octane engine rev, then die down and after a few minutes they could see another mech coming rolling on tire skates, an exact match of Sunstreaker.

"Oh, fuck. Here comes Sideswipe," Hedges said moving back from the window.

"Count that as a good sign," Oscar said glancing at the two men. "Sides is the easy one."

=0=

 

#17: "It was like this..."

 

=0=Outside the soldier's barracks

"Oh, fuck. Here comes Sideswipe," Hedges said moving back from the window.

"Count that as a good sign," Oscar said glancing at the two men. "Sides is the easy one."

=0=Nearby

"Hey, Lennox!"

Will Lennox looked up from his pile of reports, the inevitable outcome of a mission. "What, Deb?"

"Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are at the barracks. Sunny doesn't look happy and Sides looks like he's trying to put out a fire." Sargent Quimby, an Air Force mechanic stood at the door at the end of his barracks leaning in with a concerned expression on her face. "I thought you might want to go and see what's up."

Lennox sat a moment, the idea percolating in, then he exploded from his chair running for the door. "Thanks, Deb," he shouted as he ran past her, down the corridor and out onto the tarmac. He ran as fast as he could rounding a hangar and heading toward the enlisted men's communal barracks that housed the soldiers that rotated in and out of N.E.S.T. Striker teams. He could see the two behemoths ahead, both of them arguing together, Arne Feltman standing below looking up at them. 

He ran faster.

=0=At the Autobot Medbay

Bluestreak sat on the berth, First Aid running even more tests to make sure that his patient was not only A-OK but meticulously in first class condition. It was his nature to fix things and nurture them, making sure that even if they were good he could nudge them to greatness. He was a first class mechanical doctor but a feared one because of his obsessive concern about his patient's welfare, often keeping them in Medbay longer than they required.

Blue, a sweet accommodating mech merely sat quietly watching as First Aid fitzed and fussed, tweaking this and dialing that. He was waiting for Sunstreaker, his protector, friend, lover and confidante. For Sunny, he was cheerleader, soother, secret keeper and fiercely defended partner. It was often in that order but he didn't mind. He could see the goodness in the big bot that too many others didn't but then Bluestreak saw the goodness in everyone. "Have you seen Sunstreaker?" he asked tipping his helm at First Aid's request.

"He's been in a lot but you were offline."

Blue smiled warmed by the thought. "I guessed he'd be here by now."

"He was but he went to the soldier's barracks for a moment," First Aid said removing a number of plug ins to enter data on a datapad.

"Why would he go to the…" Bluestreak paused his musing and sat up straighter. "Oh slag." He pulled the last two plugs out and hopped down turning to First Aid. "I have to go. I have to go to the Soldier's barracks, First Aid. Sorry," he said, then turned limping away as fast as his repaired but still painful legs could take him.

"Bluestreak! Get back here!" First Aid said staring after him. He paused looking around himself for a moment, then turned hurrying after Bluestreak.

=0=Soldier's barracks

Lennox slowed down, breathless as much from fear as exertion. The two Autobots and Feltman turned to look at him. He paused resting his hands on his knees as he bent over to catch his breath. He rose and looked at the bots and Feltman trying to gauge the situation. Sideswipe grinning rolled around Lennox regarding him with mirth. "You're out of shape, Lennox."

"You calling me a wimp?" Lennox replied with a smile.

A pause as the two bots accessed the correct data files. They grinned simultaneously. "Yes," they said together.

Feltman walked to stand with Lennox gazing up at the two Autobots. "Sunstreaker wants to speak with Jim Johnson."

"Why do you want to speak with our guys, Sunstreaker? I gotta know as their commanding officer," Lennox said straightening as he got his second wind.

Sunstreaker regarded Lennox, one of a handful of humans for whom he had any regard. Lennox was alright. "I hear rumors, Lennox." His deep tones were filled with menace but then they always were to most human ears. He had a deeply guttural, utterly masculine baritone just like Sideswipe but Sides was always lighter in tone, always more amiable.

"What kind of rumors, Sunstreaker? Maybe I can help you."

Sunstreaker looked at the barracks, at the soldiers crowded around the windows and unsheathed his swords again smiling with a feral glee as some of them stood back from the glass. He rolled around the group turning his head to make sure he never lost sight of the building. He was taunting them, challenging them, showing power in the face of his enemies some of which truly were. He paused looking down at Lennox. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"There are rumors that some of your soldiers are talking slag about us behind our backs," Sideswipe said, his less threatening persona bringing the temperature down a bit. "Some of them are talking slag about our relationships and us in general. We don't like it, Will," he said watching in the corner of his optic as Robert Epps jogged toward them stopping breathlessly beside Will. "What's going on?" he asked. Lennox filled him in and he turned with concern toward the two Autobots.

"Who are the soldiers? Do you know?" Will asked them, already aware of the answer.

"Some fraggers called Johnson and Hedges," Sunny said, his expression turning to the calm he usually had on his face just before entering battle. "I don't like them, Will. We're fraggin' front-liners, warriors and all of our side are the same kind. We don't need some little meat sacks slaggin' us behind our backs, running down what we can do and who we are. I don't think I need to hear about some puny little fraggers slagging our species when we're bleeding and getting wounded protecting this little marble. We get enough of that from Galloway."

"No you don't, Sunny," Will said agreeing wholeheartedly. "If you would let me I'd like to take care of it. I'll do that because I agree with you and I apologize for any offense that you and the others might feel."

"I'd like them to come out first. I want to see their faces when they know that we know. I want them to tell us to our faces that they think we're lesser beings," Sunstreaker said.

"Will is going to take care of it, Sunny," Sideswipe interjected, rolling to stand by Sunny's side, touching his arm.

Sunny shook his head. "I want to see them."

"If we bring them out is there going to be anything I have to worry about here? Is there going to be a fight, Sunny, because if there is I can't allow it." Lennox finished looking up at the two Autobots, Sideswipe's tense posture and Sunstreaker's angry one going off like beacons in the dark. He didn't know what he could do but he had to project his command authority even if it meant that it wouldn't do a damned thing about this situation. Sunstreaker was a berserker front-liner but he was also a highly trained professional soldier. Most of the time. He had to do what he could to make sure his own soldiers were safe.

"Do you think I would kill him?" Sunstreaker said, his expression turning sour. "If that was my goal you would still be searching for his parts."

Lennox stared at him, then Sideswipe who gave him a barely perceptible nod. "All right. I'll get them. Wait here." He turned nodding to Epps, then walked to the door entering.

Outside standing together tensely, the two Autobots waited. Inside, tensely, Lennox called for Hedges and Johnson, Epps standing silently in the doorway. By then coming from the other direction, Niall Graham entered out of breath and concerned. "Will, what's going on?"

"Johnson and Hedges here have pissed off Sunstreaker," Lennox said, his voice filled with rage.

"Oh god," Graham said moving to the window. "What now?"

"They want to speak to both of them," Epps said, his eyes never leaving the two mens' faces. "They're going outside so we can diffuse this shit."

"The ***hell*** I will," Johnson said.

Lennox moved in on him standing nose-to-nose. "The hell you ***will***. Tell me what you did and said, both of you, to bring this down. Do it now or you and I will be in a world of ugly."

Johnson swallowed, Hedges wavered and neither spoke. Tom Seldon and Oscar Richards stepped closer, Seldon sighing. "They were talking trash about Ratchet and Ironhide. I even heard shit about Optimus Prime and Prowl. They were also making statements about the Autobots in general that were bullshit."

Hedges looked at Feltman, furious. "Prove it."

"We don't have to," Lennox said. "The proof is outside. Sunstreaker doesn't care for humans. He wouldn't be here if he didn't hear something and I would remind you, he asked for you by name, both of you. I think that's enough proof for me. How about you?" he asked glancing at Epps and Graham. They nodded grimly. "Now here is what you are going to do. You are going out there with Graham, Epps and me and you're going to stand there and take whatever shit they dump on you. You will not move, you will not make any remarks back. You will ***take*** it. And when we're done you will pack your shit up. You are going out on the next transport. I'm telling them so as well. We have a good relationship with the Autobots. They're warriors and comrades. We don't need you two here fucking things up with your bullshit. Are there any questions?"

"They'll ***kill*** us," Hedges said anxiously. Johnson swallowed hard, the muscles of his jawline moving spastically with nerves and fear.

"Do you really believe that if they were here to kill you that you would still be alive? Is there a building on this base that would save you from them? They're front-liners. They would get you with their last dying breath. Now do what I said. Walk out with your mouth shut, take the licking you earned and don't make any and I mean ***any*** movements that can be misunderstood. Then we'll come in here and help you pack," Lennox said, his rage a calm cold thing.

The two men shaking slightly nodded, pulling themselves together with effort. Then with fear in their steps, they followed Graham, Lennox and Epps out of the door to the tarmac beyond. The other soldiers filled with a terrible dread flocked to the windows to watch. Meanwhile, back on the tarmac rushing toward the scene in front of the barracks, Bluestreak was followed by First Aid, himself hurried along, dread and fear on his face too.

=0=

 

#18: "Slag. Slagslagslag. Did I say slag?"

/...Ironhide is a sexy bitch.../ <<<< thought bubbles >>>>

 

=0=In Ops Center, Autobot Command Complex

Prowl sat at the sensor terminal next to Teletraan II, a thousand essential Autobot Army details percolating through his processor and as he considered them an innocuous personal subroutine was turning over a very pretty penny elsewhere in his helm. On one side was the handsome face of his beloved Optimus Prime and on the other the Pit.

Since coming back to sentience from his little 'indiscretion' he had been filled with conflicting emotions. First and foremost, he was never going to over-energize again. Ever. Apparently, a family of mice had entrance to Wheeljack's lab. He knew when he was trying to clean up in the wash racks that next morning. There were small animal tracks on his face.

He still shuddered.

Secondly, Ratchet in full prank war mode was terrifying. He himself preferred tangible knowable fact-type data. He preferred the reality-based world with all its reality things. The World of War Coots that was Ironhide v Ratchet was filled to the brim with unforeseeable outcomes and non-predictable moments of sublime terror for a bot who considered himself a rational thinker. The convoluted tracks that wend themselves through the processor of the Chief Medical Officer had too many pot holes for him to drive.

He wasn't good at chaos.

Yet in his moment of distress, when he was sure he couldn't find his way back from the Pit he had reached up and Ratchet had taken his servo. To make it worse, Ratchet had somehow divined his interest and attentive considerations … his admiration and affection … what did Ratchet say it was? … 'a soul destroying need to face like a cyber bunny with the Prime'.

He swallowed and looked around checking that his lapse of attention hadn't drawn any attention. Settling once more holding his datapad up again, unaware that it was upside down, he considered that remark. He did admire the Prime, a selfless dignified individual upon whom all the hopes of their people here and everywhere else were pinned. He wanted to be significantly important personally, someone who could ease the burdens of the Prime when he was off duty as well as on and help him face the dark loneliness of such pressure with a happier step. That he wanted Prime to bend him over the nearest solid object and have his unfettered way didn't surface beyond that small firewall protected document dump in the bottom of his processor stem.

He glanced tensely around again seeing no one doing anything but their job.

Even Jazz.

Jazz...

He was willing to risk his relationship with Mirage to help him 'land the big one' as Ratchet so crassly put it. He felt a shudder wafting through his circuits as he considered the possibility that this could explode in his face. But that possibility didn't seem like a problem to Ratchet because he said that Prime wanted him.

***PRIME*!**

Their gracious leader **actually** **wanted** **him**. He could hardly square it with the professional demeanor they had together. But then he couldn't square Kup or Springer either. He knew that Prime had pulled that prank on Ironhide and it was technically brilliant but it hardly seemed to mesh with the dignity that always informed Prime to him.

Obviously he had to get out more.

A heavy footfall on the command deck drew his optics and he froze as the imposing inspirational figure of Optimus Prime entered the great room. He watched transfixed as Prime walked to him and smiled slightly, nodding. "Prowl, we have a problem and I think you will be the best to do the preliminary investigating," he said, his sonorous baritone sending sparkly things tingling over Prowl's dermal layer.

He nodded rising, quashing his libidinous programming. "Of course, sir. What would you have me do?" / … anything.../

"There appears to be an incident at the N.E.S.T. enlisted men's barracks." / … why are you holding that datapad upside down, Prowl? .../

"What sort of incident?" Prowl asked shifting to business mode. / … need I ask? .../

"Apparently the twins and some soldiers who have been talking badly about us," Prime answered taking the datapad. He smiled kindly looking for any change in Prowl's expressive deeply handsome face that might indicate any interest whatsoever in himself.

"I will get right on it," Prowl replied swallowing hard. "I will be going now." /... go ... stay ... go ... stay .../

"Fine," Prime said. / … stay.../

"Uh, here I go," Prowl said wincing. He turned and walked soundlessly across the room and out the door.

Prime watched him admiring his light-footed tread, his smartly shining elegant door wings and his aft swaying as he walked away. /... oh Primus ... I need to get out more .../

Jazz sitting nearby working through data from their raid for the special ops section of the report due in three orns shook his head with a smirk. /... hopeless.../

=0=Enlisted Men's Barracks

They stepped out into the warm sunlight, the two Autobots stopping their circling motions to come closer to stare at the small group of organics. Will Lennox, his heart pounding in his chest looked at Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. "I have them here and they are prepared to not only listen to whatever you wish to say about their actions, they are going to personally apologize to you before they ship out."

"Ship out?" Sideswipe asked with surprise. He glanced at Sunstreaker who stood looking at the group as if they were a messy mistake in one of his brilliant perfectly rendered art pieces.

"They are going to be leaving N.E.S.T.," Will said. "We hold our alliance with you and the Autobots in the highest regard. We won't allow anything to sully that, no way, no how."

Sunstreaker looked at them, his seven foot swords, tips braced on the concrete considered that, then Will. "A good partial solution."

"The only one for us," Niall said, his expression serious. "We are all for one or you're out."

"Until all are one," Sideswipe said nodding, a smile forming on his face "That's what it has to be."

"I want you to tell us just what we have heard you saying here and there among the meat sacks," Sunstreaker said only partially appeased. "I want to hear your insults to our warriors and to our way of life."

Sideswipe looked from Lennox to the soldiers behind him. "Who is this Johnson and Hedges?"

Lennox turned, a look on his face that lent no confusion to what he expected them to do. "Johnson and Hedges. Front and center."

The two hesitated, then stepped forward standing at rigid attention, their eyes forward. They were pale and small. The two Autobots looked at them with expressions of disgust. "Talk," Lennox said standing at parade rest, acute embarrassment on his handsome face.

**"*Sir*,** I respectfully decline to speak, ***sir*,** " Johnson said, his affect one of steely resistance. Hedges, his voice trembling just slightly repeated the same phrase.

Lennox turned glaring at them both repeating his order and they in turn 'respectfully' declined. It was at impasse. That was when Bluestreak finally caught up to the twins and the soldiers.

The soldiers in the barracks saw him first and waved their arms to Lennox to warn him. Lennox confused a moment turned to look. Bluestreak limping slightly with a small expression of pain reached them as Sunstreaker turned with surprise. "Blue," he said.

Bluestreak unsure of the situation took Sunstreaker's arms holding them as he looked from Sideswipe to Lennox to Sunstreaker again. "Sunny, what's going on? Is there going to be trouble?"

Sunstreaker, his anger rising again pulled Bluestreak close to him, turning to look at the soldiers as he did. "A couple of these organic fraggers have a problem with us and our way of life. They think they can slag you and me, Blue."

Bluestreak looked at them frowning as he recognized Feltman and Richards. "You do?" he asked, a tone of hurt in his voice.

"No," Lennox said quickly. "Not the soldiers who were on the last operation. Two slaggers who are going to be leaving here as soon as they apologize." Feltman and Richards nodded, their expressions intently professing agreement.

It was then when Prowl reached the enlisted men's barracks and the gathering group of Autobots and soldiers.

=0=Ironhide

He sat on a large metal trailer which was left outside the Autobot complex for that very reason. The sun was warm and he was needy. The prank war he was having with Ratchet had very specific rules that had been worked out between them over a large and fulsome number of millenniums. One of the biggest was that anyone who said no 'facing could ensure that neither side would be especially happy during that portion of the ordeal, thus bringing it to a conclusion before either rusted shut.

Ironhide was not happy as he considered the list of rules they had made over the long period of hilarity called their spark bond. Another rule, one of the most important and utilized was that they 'faced after every battle. During the long defeat for Cybertron, they had been separated, exhausted and unable to feel or touch each other beyond their bond link and so that rule was born. If they were going to go to the Matrix it would be with few regrets. Having that personal connection was a way to ensure that both knew the worth of the other come what may.

Pranking was the Pit now however. Pranking was beginning to be a burden rather than one of the two or three joys of life. Ratchet was one, blowing up things- especially Decepticons- was another and pranks. Well, they were 'the shit' as the soldiers liked to say.

Soldiers.

Fraggin' soldiers.

They were the reason that this whole thing happened and it rankled. Will Lennox should have his soldiers in line better. He rose stretching the kinks from his cables and started out for the enlisted man's barracks where he could usually find Lennox, Epps and Graham. Anyone of them was good enough to vent upon and he needed to before he threw a rod. He hadn't had a chance to rant at the soldiers since that first moment when they made the fatal mistake of slagging Ratchet.

There were some inexcusable things that mattered in Ironhide's world. A messy munition, watered down high grade and fragging with Ratchet. He picked up his step as his ire rose determined to get a few things off his chassis.

=0=Medbay

Ratchet came out of his office and glanced over to where Bluestreak should still be. He wasn't. Neither was First Aid. He felt the wrath of Hatchet rising inside so he opened his sensors looking for First Aid and Bluestreak finding them at all places the enlisted man's barracks.

And Prowl.

Prowl was there.

And Ironhide was almost there.

And the twins. They were there already.

With Bluestreak.

And First Aid and Prowl.

And soon-to-be Ironhide.

This couldn't be good he thought as he subspaced his datapad, grabbed an emergency first aid kit and hustled his peds out the door to the enlisted man's barracks.

=0=

 

#19: "Take a number!"

 

=0=At the enlisted men's barracks

By the time that Ironhide made it to the enlisted men's barracks the wrath of Unicron had descended. The twins, the first to arrive could see that the two miscreants were not going to 'man up' and do the right thing. Sideswipe whose sympathy with Epps and Lennox was greater tried to talk Sunstreaker into accepting that as sufficient.

"They're **going** , Sunny," Sideswipe said.

Sunstreaker wasn't having any of it. "They slagged **Blue** , Sideswipe. They slagged him and Ratchet and the others." Blue standing beside Sunstreaker with a servo on his arm looked worriedly at the two twins even as he found himself warmed by Sunny's wrath.

Ironhide moving closer peered downward in the circle of Autobots spotting Lennox. "I want to talk to you, Lennox. I want to know what you are going to do about the slagging they gave Ratchet."

Lennox looking up swallowed hard. He felt like he was back in California walking through the Avenue of the Giants surrounded by Sequoia Gigantus trees on all sides. Extremely pissed off, fully armed, unappeased trees. As he turned to talk to Ironhide Prowl stepped forward turning to the twins. A look that could peel paint off of walls crossed his face. Blue and Sideswipe stepped backwards but Sunstreaker held his ground. Blue tugged on his arm, an expression of worry compromising his cute youthful face. "Come on, Sunny. Let's step back and let Prowl sort this out."

"Prowl?" Sunny said raising his voice in ire. "He's one of the targets. Prowl and Prime."

Everyone stopped, freezing in place. Prowl stared at Sunny, his expression revealing no trace of the body blow that remark made. "Step back and calm down. We'll solve this peacefully."

"They mocked you and ***Prime*** , Prowl," Sunstreaker said, his expression one of distaste and sympathetic anger.

Prowl unaccustomed to being defended by one of the most irritating and consistently disruptive Autobots under his command paused glancing around and down at Lennox who looked like a man who had lost control of his car and was just waiting for the impact to shatter his face.

"They mocked us, they mocked you and Prime and they mocked Ratchet," Sunny said folding his arms in front of his chassis, Bluestreak's grip not withstanding. "Maybe you don't mind but I do."

"Who mocked me, the slaggers?"

Everyone turned and stared at Ratchet who had come up unnoticed in the tirade pausing just behind Ironhide.

"I want to discuss that," Ironhide said unconsciously moving to stand in front of Ratchet. "I don't appreciate my bond mate being a joke."

"Who's a slagging joke?" Ratchet asked hands on hips and anger rising in him like fog over a pond. "What the frag is going on here?"

"Alright," Prowl said trying to assert his command authority. "Everyone stand down."

"I want to know what you're going to do," Sunny said leaning toward Prowl. "I don't appreciate Bluestreak being slagged. Or our life. Or the idea that who we are with is a big joke to someone else. Who the frag are they to criticize us? We are here helping them against the fraggin' Decepticons and **this is the thanks we get**?"

"Sunny," Sideswipe said rolling in front of his brother. "They're going to be sent away."

"So what?" Sunny said. "The damage is done. They all have heard the jokes ... they all have heard the slag. How are we supposed to trust them in combat?"

"I agree."

They all turned and looked at First Aid who regretted his remarks immediately, stepping back to the rear of the Autobot group with a self deprecating gesture of his servos.

"I agree too," Ratchet said nodding his encouragement to First Aid. "How are we supposed to trust the soldiers if they think we're a joke? And why the frag do you find us so damned funny?"

It was finally silent, Prowl turning in a slow circle trying to regain the upper hand and failing. He stopped and the Autobots turned as one toward Lennox, Epps and Graham, staring down at them as one.

Epps looked at Lennox and stepped slightly back joined by Graham. He looked at them and half turned, exasperated. "What? Get up here too!" he said.

"You're the senior officer," Graham said smirking slightly. "Lead."

Epps nodded and shook his head. Lennox licking suddenly dry lips looked up at a forest of aliens, their blue optics staring holes through his carcass. "I'm sorry. I don't know why. I don't know why some of our own people hate others of our own people for things that don't matter. I would hope after all that we've been through that you would know how much we appreciate and respect you. I and the two others of us here," he said gesturing to Epps and Graham who nodded pointedly, "know what you do and we care about you and your well being. I apologize for what's happened and we will do our best to repair the relationship first," he said glancing over his shoulder, giving a heated look at Johnson and Hedges, "by cutting our loses with the main offenders."

"That's a start," Sunny persisted. "But what about the rest of you? How many of the rest of you feel the same way? I'm not going to apologize or be embarrassed about me and Blue. We're together and we'll stay together. If you don't like it frag off."

"This whole mess started when those two slagged Ratchet," Ironhide said pointing at the two soldiers standing behind Graham.

" **What?** " Ratchet said. "You never told **me** that."

"Why would I tell you that?" Ironhide said as he turned to face Ratchet. "You don't need to know that sort of thing."

"Why not? What if I'm supposed to fight with these two idiots? How can I know they think I'm pit spawn and how can I know they will cover me under fire?"

"That's the problem," Ironhide said turning to lean down toward Lennox, Epps and Graham. "I came here to discuss that. I don't appreciate Ratchet being a joke to anyone let alone someone I'm supposed to trust on the battlefield."

"Look at us," Sideswipe said shaking his head. "We're not you. We're **us**. This is who we are **supposed** to be and we act like we're **supposed** to act. We come from a different slaggin' world. We're fraggin' **metallic** for Primus sake! We don't have too many of your ways but most of us have learned as much as we can about you and how you act. Some of us anyway," he said glancing with a smirk at his brother. "We did it so we can be a team because that is how we know we can stay alive and win.

"We've been a team for each other for longer than you can imagine. We deserve respect and if you can't accept how we are, especially the personal relationships some of us have because this is what we truly are imagine how we feel about some of your slag? But I hope you noticed that we haven't dumped on you or let it affect us in combat. No matter what you think you know about us, know that we are professionals."

It was silent a moment and Lennox sighed. "You and us, we're brothers-in-arms. I felt it from the beginning. I would hope you understand that holds even now. The three of us, we stay here because we want to work with you, because we respect you and even more, we care about and like you. I am sorry for the stupidity of a few. I don't want the relationship that we have built up in blood and effort to be compromised. That is why these two," he said turning to nod at Johnson and Hedges, "are taking the next plane out of here."

"And the others? The soldiers who listened and heard their slag?" Sunny persisted.

"We personally will take care of that," Graham said looking from one to the next, a deeply serious expression on his face.

"Very well," Prowl said nodding. "We can talk further about how we can span this rift and build a closer relationship between you and us. We understand how alien we must be in some regards but that is a two way street."

Lennox nodded. "Thank you, Prowl. We look forward to it. Right now, these two are out of here." He turned and looked at them. "Get packing. **Now**."

They turned and walked stiffly into the building, the hoots of the twins following them. Lennox turned and looked up staring into the faces of the others. "Can we do anything more now or are we okay?"

"There ***is*** something else. I want to know what some slagger said about me." Ratchet stepped from behind Ironhide, his servos on his hips and smoke coming out of his audials.

"Oh, Primus," Ironhide whispered softly.

"Truce," Prowl said turning to the Autobots. "Everyone, let's go and let Captain Lennox, Sargent Epps and Lieutenant Graham do their job."

They turned grumbling and began to disperse, Prowl staying behind to tidy up loose ends. Ratchet walking beside Ironhide smirked. "So you came here to defend my honor?"

"Of course," Ironhide said, his servo moving to its normal non-combat position, the small of Ratchet's back.

"My hero," Ratchet said with a snicker.

"Of course," Ironhide said rising to the moment. "I am Ironhide, **front line berserker** , Prime's go-to right servo mech and all around **Chaos Bringer of the Autobots**."

"I can't argue with that," Ratchet said fondly.

"Damned straight," Ironhide said smiling as they walked together toward home.

=0=

 

#20: "Cry me a river."

 

/... word .../ <<<< thought bubbles >>>>

 

=0=Outside the door of Prime's office later that morning

Prowl gathered himself feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Usually his neediness was suppressed under multiple layers of conditioned reflex so he could come and go around the Prime with only minimal acknowledgment of his growing feelings. Now? Not so much. He felt nerves on his nerves as he reached for the door handle. Rapping lightly, he waited. Dulcet tones, that warm rich baritone replied: "Come."

At that remark if he had been human he might have from the tone alone. He snickered silently committing a rash bit of humorous impulsiveness. Then he paused quashing his human slang files down onto the bottom level bird cage liner of his information filing system. Apparently he was losing his grip and that wasn't good, not good at all. Opening the door, head and red chevron held high, he walked in all business. "Good morning, sir," he said, his own well modulated tenor sending rippling tingles up and down the neural epidermis of his leader.

Of course, he didn't know that.

"Prowl," Prime said, a warm smile infusing his handsome face. It sent little tingly things up and down Prowl's epidermal plates too but of course Prime didn't know that either. "What happened at the enlisted men's barracks? I would have gone myself but General Morshower needed some information on Prague."

Prowl nodded sitting on a chair next to the desk, his knee just **this** much removed from Prime's. He swallowed. "It was a … how shall I put this ..."

"Fiasco?" Prime offered grinning broadly, leaning back in his chair, lacing his fingers together.

"Good choice," Prowl said, a small smile forming on his lips.

Prime stared at those lips, the smoothness, the fullness, the softness. He assumed the softness. He hadn't kissed them before.

Yet.

Hopefully.

He quashed his libidinous programming. "Sounds like fun. What are the details? All of them." Prowl looked up from his datapad for a second and Prime shrugged. "I need to know what is going on in case this gets out of hand and in case questions come up about it. The twins are very intimidating after all."

Prowl nodded. "It appears that Sunstreaker has been hanging around where soldiers congregate to listen in. He found out that a number of them were repeating and telling disparaging remarks about us, especially those of us in what they consider 'icky' relationships."

"Icky?" Prime asked searching for the relevant citation. He found it. He frowned. "What is 'icky' about our relationships?"

"Apparently there is a strong element of homophobia in this culture, a stronger affect of it in the military and some people are overt in their personal expressions about it."

They sat quietly together a moment each thinking.

"Bad way to get to Sunstreaker, slagging Bluestreak," Prime said quietly.

"I'm not so fond of that myself," Prowl said, an uncharacteristically hard tone to his voice. He had practically raised the youngster upon finding him wandering dazed and wounded in the aftermath of the destruction of Praxus, his own personal home town as well.

The Praxians among the Autobots had searched long and hard among the debris and dead of their great city to find anyone at all who had survived the annihilation. Prowl had found Bluestreak, hurt, dazed and mumbling to himself about how he had to go home and find his mother. He had taken Prowl's servo and they had left the dead behind going to an Autobot triage center for help. For days, Bluestreak followed Prowl everywhere clinging to him, needing him and by the time they left Bluestreak had become the sparkling that Prowl had never had.

He had made it his responsibility to take care of Blue and to help him defend himself as part of their army. Blue had never from that moment on been separated from Prowl. Prowl had made sure of it. The hurt and heartache that he, Ironhide and other Praxians felt was assuaged in the good nature and kind youthfulness of Bluestreak.

"Sunny went there to find them," Prowl acknowledged. "Sideswipe was right behind him. He helped."

"Helped?" Prime asked, his optic ridges crooking in surprise.

"Actually, he tried to reason with Sunstreaker."

"I see. Did you find out who was making the remarks and their rationale for doing so?" Prime asked gazing with fondness and longing at the red chevron on Prowl's brow as the handsome bot bent his helm to look at the datapad in his hands. /... so beautiful … I love red … I have a lot of red on me, myself … I wonder how Prowl feels about red? ... I'm told it's a good color for me .../

Prowl scrutinized the pad in his hands aware of the gaze of his commander on his person. He was glad he had taken a bit of time that morning in the wash racks. The image of mice standing on his face would take a long time in passing. "It was a couple of soldiers, a Johnson and Hedges. They were brought out to apologize and appease the troops as it were but they refused even under orders."

A surprised look crossed Prime's face and Prowl nodded in agreement. "Hot heads on both sides I see," Prime said grinning slightly.

"It would appear so, sir," Prowl said, the ghost of a smile crossing his lips. "They put their officers on the spot and for that and other reasons they are already on their way back to other shores."

"Lennox sent them away?" Prime said, his optic ridges jotting upward. "Good call. We get enough of this from Galloway."

"Funny you should say that, sir. So did Sunstreaker," Prowl said nodding.

"What did the soldiers say, Prowl? It worries me that there is discord among us. Frankly, I wasn't aware of it among the soldiers. I see it often enough among the civilians but this has taken me by surprise."

"Me too, sir," Prowl said shaking his head. He considered the detailed comments that Lennox had shamefacedly given him. He wondered how he could tell the dignified mech sitting in front of him. "I … they are not complimentary actually, sir. Do you really want to hear them?"

His curiosity piqued, Prime nodded. Prowl licked his lips nervously and Prime was enchanted. Prowl shifted in his chair looking at the datapad, holding it tightly, his servos shifting with tension. Prime wanted to rescue him. Prowl glanced at Prime, looking down, then looking up focusing his attention on Prime's gentle expression.

"Sir, I ..." Prowl said holding up his datapad.

"We're big mechs, Prowl. Soldiers one and all. Tell me what was said," Prime gently chided.

Prowl nodded schooling his face to a professionalism that he didn't feel. "Yes, sir. It appears that some of them don't like our relationships .That is, our personal ones. Ratchet and Ironhide for instance. And Sunstreaker and Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Smokescreen, Hound and-"

"None of them essentially," Prime said shaking his head, considering the love that some of his soldiers had found in an escape from the madness of war. Their relationships were the fundamental basic social fabric of their culture and society. "Continue," he said acknowledging Prowl's nod. "What actually do they say about them?"

Prowl felt himself fading, his essential social ineptitude rising throughout his circuits as he considered how to tell his Prime some of the remarks the three officers had told him outlining the miscreant soldier's commentary on the Autobots. He swallowed and focused on the datapad. "They made mention of various homophobic slurs, the usual ones that apply to humans as well I am told. Fag, queer, butt boy, sissy. That sort of thing," Prowl said softly, his embarrassment acute. "Then they got more specific with the acts that they either perceived or imagined for us. Some of them were completely specific to us."

"Such as?" Prime asked leaning his elbows on the desk, his eyes riveted on the delicate balance of emotions on Prowl's face.

Prowl sat a long time staring at the datapad before looking up, blinking several times. "They believe we suck each others USB cables."

Prowl swallowed hard, his tanks turning over as he stared at Prime who sat motionlessly staring back. It seemed unbearable, then Prime pitched forward, his head landing on his desk with a hard thump. Prowl surprised and stunned sat a moment, then stood uncertainly, reaching over to touch Prime's shoulder. "Sir?" he asked, his voice filled with static, a bad sign of impending glitch. "Sir?" he asked again nudging Prime. Then Prime moved, his shoulders shaking and from the general direction of his mouth a chuckle began.

It rose rising up in tone and flavor until he sat up throwing back his head bellowing laughter to the ceiling. Prowl standing stricken and mortified, his optical ridges located somewhere around the vicinity of his lower back could only watch Prime confoundedly. On and on he laughed, the sound magnifying and filtering out through the ducts and door into the corridors beyond.

After a moment, Prowl noticed another person in the room and turned his fritzing optics to the amused gaze of Jazz. Jazz put his arm around Prowl and squeezed his shoulders, then turning he rested his optics on the convulsing figure of his commanding officer. "This is good."

"No," Prowl said moving his servo around his back, hiding the datapad with it.

"I don't know, Prowler," Jazz said grinning at him. "I haven't seen him do this in vorns."

Prime stilled a moment wiping coolant that had ran down his face and noticed Jazz. "Tell him, Prowl. Tell him what the soldiers said about us." Then he began to laugh again, leaning back to hold his chassis as he belly laughed.

"What did they say?" Jazz said turning to look at Prowl, amusement at Prowl's extreme discomfort glowing on his face.

"Frag ***no*** ," Prowl stammered.

Prime stopped and looked at Prowl and Jazz with extreme amusement. "Should I tell him?" Prime asked.

"Not while **I'm** here," Prowl said tossing the datapad on Prime's desk and turning to leave as fast as he could get around Jazz.

The two of them watched him, then Jazz turned pointing at the datapad. "Shall I finish for him?"

Prime nodded, chuckling. "Please do."

=0=

TBC 2010 (11) NOTE: I began this story on November 2, 2010 and have posted from 1-5 parts everyday since. You can count on both of your hands the numbers of days I have missed. This story is my part time job. :D

=0=

 

The Diego Diaries: "Ba-bee." 

 

=0=Outside Prowl's office

He peeked inside expecting anything, then he entered looking at the slumped figure in the chair behind the desk. "Hey?"

Fritzing optics met his gentle greeting. "Jazz?"

Jazz entered the room and sat in the chair across from Prowl's desk. "You look slagged."

"I don't remember being so mortified," Prowl said. "You do know what I told him don't you?"

"USB cables?" Jazz said grinning at the wince of pain that crossed Prowl's face "I think it's funny. Prime thought so too. He nearly threw a rod laughing."

Prowl shook his head and leaned back, the stylus in his servo tapping lightly on the desk. "He surprises me every day."

"He does," Jazz said relaxing. "You're really crazy about him aren't ya?"

Prowl nodded, tossing the stylus down on the desktop. "I am." He was silent a moment. "Ratchet says I'm a fool not to go in and tell him. He says that Prime likes me too."

"No, he doesn't, Prowler."

Prowl started and looked at Jazz, his expression falling.

"He loves you, Prowl," Jazz replied softly, his optics smiling.

Prowl looked at Jazz, staring at him as he sat quietly, then he frowned slightly, lowering his helm to the desktop.

"You really should go in and tell him how you feel too," Jazz said. "He won't be anything but ecstatic."

"How do you **know**?" Prowl asked, his voice muffled by the desktop.

"Because I've been around. I've seen a lot of mechs pining away for other mechs and sometimes, femmes. I know what love looks like."

Prowl's helm rose and he leaned back in his chair regarding Jazz quietly. "Just like that. Go in and say, "I love you. Please tell me if you do too?"

"Sure. Why not? What do you have to lose?"

Prowl regarded Jazz quietly. "My working relationship if you're wrong. My ability to take care of the army, to feel comfortable around Prime. Prime's discomfort with me if you're full of slag and wrong. I could go on but I think you get the idea."

Jazz smirked. "You really have an answer for everything. I never saw such a smart person be so stupid. What exactly are you waitin' for? Him to come to you and throw himself at you?"

Prowl shook his head. "I'm not you, Jazz. I'm not socially skilled, I don't have chit-chat to roll out and dazzle people with and I don't know how to exactly measure reactions of mechs beyond a certain mathematical calculation."

"That's where you're messin' up. Who said you have to be mathematical and precise? Love doesn't work that way. It's messy and complicated and simple. You do love Prime don't ya?"

Prowl crumpled, his shoulders sagging from misery. "In the worst way," he said. "Since forever."

"You've known him a long time," Jazz said settling back to pry which was his specialty. Prying and making people say 'thank you, Jazz for reading my diaries and picking my pocket'. He needed more material to work with and he was determined to open this tin can if it took all morning.

Prowl nodded, his optics gathering that faraway look they got when he was thinking deeply. "I met him the day he came to the Citadel as Prime. I remember thinking, 'another one' and shaking his servo. I didn't think about it much because he was just another big mech who I was going to have to train."

"You really thought that?" Jazz asked, fascinated.

Prowl shrugged. "He was a dockworker before this and when he came he didn't even pretend to be a soldier which made me like him from the start. He was calm and interested in learning what to do without ego pretensions and I decided to do what I always did when the Primes came, be his left servo."

"You have been," Jazz said wondering if he could push his luck a little. "I heard that you served under other Primes too?"

Prowl glanced at him wincing slightly. "Nice choice of words, Jazz."

Jazz smirked. "You heard the rumors too?"

"Hard to miss," Prowl said shaking his head. "Nova Prime hardly knew I was around. I wasn't in his social group and he didn't exactly consult if you know what I mean. Jhaixus was his main thinker. I was just the spare I guess. And I was so young I don't think he even knew I was in the army."

Jazz nodded. "What about Sentinel? Did you really have a relationship with him?"

Prowl considered him. "What did you hear?"

Jazz shrugged. "I heard you were in a relationship with Sentinel Prime. That's all."

Prowl shook his head. "You aren't **in** a relationship with Sentinel."

Jazz waited watching the emotions play across Prowl's face. It was concerning. "What happened with him?"

Prowl shrugged and looked at Jazz, a sad expression on his face. "He wasn't good for me. He had an ego that didn't allow for anyone to love him more than he loved himself. He had good qualities but mostly he was selfish and self centered. He had such a conflated sense of himself. Everyone else were lesser beings."

"You were lovers?" Jazz persisted.

"I suppose so. But it was unsatisfying. He would expect and not give. He would take and then leave. He wanted it to be quiet," Prowl said. "I didn't have anything against him. He could be a sweet mech but I really didn't have a good time. I don't especially have good memories of him and those days. Just … I," he paused shaking his head. "I was lonely."

"I'm sorry," Jazz said quietly.

"Sentinel was a egotistical individual but he was also brave and tried as hard as he could," Prowl said, oddly feeling a need to defend Sentinel to Jazz.

"Was he your only lover or were there others?" Jazz asked, his voice soft and gentle.

Prowl looked at him regarding him squarely. "You're interrogating me, Jazz."

"That obvious?" Jazz asked, grinning.

"Yes," Prowl said quietly, pushing the ghosts of his past back to where they belonged.

They sat a moment, neither talking, then Prowl shifted uneasily in his chair. "I can do a lot of things, Jazz. I know I am good at a lot of things and I give everything that I have to the Autobots and to Prime. I'm just not very good at social things. I can't be a dazzling lover and go after what I want. I never have and I don't suppose I will change."

"I know," Jazz said. He stared at Prowl waiting for him to speak.

Prowl met his gaze and kept it. "You are waiting for more confessions, right?"

"Yes," Jazz replied with a chuckle.

"Sorry. I think between USB cables and Sentinel Prime, I've given all the testimony of my backwardness that I can manage today."

Jazz only smiled.

=0=Medbay

Ironhide sat in Ratchet's chair behind his desk tapping his fingers. Ratchet was running about getting the place back in shape following their last foray into the world of Decepticon deception and arms dealers. He was mulling over his dissatisfaction with the soldiers and his present state of sexual anxiety with Ratchet. To put it mildly, he was restless with pent up sexual energy and had no place to put it.

/... I'm a mech with **needs** … a mech can't live on energon and artillery practice alone .../ "Ratchet."

It took a moment for Ratchet to appear around the corner, his blue optics filled with curiosity and wariness. "What?"

"Come and talk to me," Ironhide said swiveling his chair to face the door.

"I, unlike some mechs I can name have work to do, Ironhide."

"Come here. Talk to me, baby."

It was silent a moment.

"Baby?" Ratchet said, moving to stand in the doorway, servos on hips. "You're been around the soldiers too long. I'm way past being a baby."

"Access the multiple meanings," Ironhide suggested. He waited as Ratchet did, a smile forming on his lips as he got the meaning intended.

"So you think if you sweet talk me you'll get what?" Ratchet said moving to sit in the chair across from his desk. He noted that things had been moved around and that meant that Ironhide was looking for the datapads he had hidden before. He grinned.

"Can't hurt," Ironhide said smirking. He leaned forward on his elbows, a smoky look crossing his face. "Gotta give a mech points for trying, ba-bee."

Ratchet snorted, leaning forward as well. Their lips were close enough to almost touch and Ratchet's sensors noted that Ironhide's already high inner core temperature was rising by proximity. "What do you want to talk about, ba-bee?"

"About a rule change. About you and me burning off the top of the buzz I know you have as badly as I do," he whispered leaning forward. His lips gently touched Ratchet's, softly kissing him. Ratchet let him as it had been a while for him too, then he leaned back slightly. "Well?" Ironhide asked, confident that he had at least breached the walls of Fortress Ratchet just a wee bit.

Ratchet smiled, his own look of sultry sexiness crossing his face. He leaned forward, Ironhide leaning in. As they almost touched again, Ratchet whispered: "No." Then he sat back smiling as a look of frustrated tenacity lit up Ironhide's own. He rose patting Ironhide's big servo. "Gotta work, Ironhide. You might try it. It'll help with all your … anxieties." Then he turned and walked into the other room, a smile on his face.

Ironhide watched him go admiring and damning his tenacity. "Well, we'll see, ba-bee," he said rising. Strolling out, his smoky gaze holding Ratchet's, he walked out of the medbay and down the corridor.

Ratchet watched him go, smiling as he left. "Good one, Ironhide. You're one nice kisser," he whispered to himself, then he turned and walked back to the storeroom to resupply the surgery.

First Aid sitting nearby recalibrating machines shook his head. "Too much information, you glitch heads. Too, too much information."

=0=

 

 

The Diego Diaries: "Cosmo, Man"

 

=0=Prime's office that morning

When Jazz finally left, Prime took the datapad and perused it. It was vintage Prowl, neat, concise and orderly just like him. Prime grinned downloading the contents into a file he created entitled 'Galloway Confrontation #287 and closed it, putting it back on the desk. He leaned back, the mirth he felt over the remark Prowl had told him, albeit with the most discomfort he had ever seen in the normally stolid mech had been remarkable. Prowl was a mech of good taste and refinement obviously. It was good to see him loosen his wing nuts and be **just** a little bit wild.

He had to get more moments like this.

They were so endearing, so cute and huggable. Prime stopped as he  considered his almost youngling-like sense of lust and delight for Prowl. It was silly and so much fun. But it had to end sometime. He wondered if he could find an opening to tell Prowl at long last how much Prowl meant to him. How much Prime longed for him when he was absent, how comforting his calm presence was when things went to the Pit. Just listening to Prowl direct actions that to the last detail were precise and winning ... that was comfort to Prime.

He sat stewing, then made up his mind. He was going to tell Prowl. Then he sat some more, worrying about what he could say. Then he made up his mind. He was going to tell Prowl. Then he worried some more about when he could ... should he make it romantic or should it be a hit-and-run in a crowded place? What if Prowl didn't feel the same way, Jazz be hanged and he guffawed or there was a scene? He knew that he was big but he was sure if that happened he would find the nearest knothole and climb into it. Then he made up his mind to wait.

/... you are such a big femme .../ Prime thought as he picked up his stylus to begin his day's work.

=0=Nearby

Prowl paced his office turning to walk two steps to one wall, then two steps back. He was a big mech and it was a small office. He would have sighed if he could have but they didn't breathe so he didn't. He did vent air and that was close but no banana. Or was it cigar? 

Humans!

He was losing his processor he thought. The sexual tension between Prime and himself, unless he was imagining it and then he would have to go to the wash racks off shift … where was I he thought … oh yeah, sexual tension.

He paused accessing a file he kept in the data dump at the bottom of his processor stem along with a few nice sports car photos he downloaded from Car and Driver Magazine. It was an article from Cosmopolitan about sexual tension and "How To Land That Difficult Man".

/... yes, I am that desperate .../ he thought cursing a prim upbringing and a lifelong adherence to the real world and facts. He read and discarded a number of suggestions. He didn't wear lingerie and he didn't wear perfume. He didn't understand sex toys even though they appeared to be at a higher number on the list than accommodating interests that didn't require orifices.

/... its a human thing … I am sure I will never understand.../

Be direct. Hmm. That's so not me but it is but it isn't. Be direct, look him in the eye and tell him things he wants to hear. Tell him what you want. Tell him he's sexy and his body turns you on.

/...that won't be hard … he **is** sexy … in a Cybertronian sort of way, not human … Primus, penises are so ugly … now prongs and … no, I won't go there … I don't think I will ever be able to look at a USB cable again … tell him he's sexy … how do you do that? .../

He paused, gathering his wits. "Optimus … uh … Optimus, have I ever told you how sexy you are?" He paused. "I doubt I ever will too." He shuttered his optics, shaking his helm. "I am such a dumb aft. I am such a dumb aft. Why am I such a dumb aft?"

=0=Nearby in the rec room

Jazz sat sipping his energon, the loyal long suffering Mirage sitting with him watching the machinations form and be discarded on Jazz's face.

"These two nuts are harder to crack than you thought aren't they," Mirage said smirking slightly.

Jazz looked at him smirking back. "You doubt I can work my magic?"

"It could be that you have found the ceiling of your evil, my dear and most beloved Jazz," Mirage said leaning back in his chair, grinning at his lover.

"We'll see, Mirage. Wager?" Jazz asked sitting back himself, admiring Mirage's paint scheme once more.

"Done," Mirage said leaning forward. He whispered his wager to Jazz. Jazz smiled. "You're on."

=0=In Prowl's office

He sat brooding, Sentinel Prime of all things entering his processor. He shifted in his chair turning it one way and back the other way again as an intimate moment entered his processor.

"Prowl! Prowl!"

He lay on his back staring up at Sentinel. Feeling very little below the fan belt or anywhere else, he watched as Prime galloped his way toward overload alone. Again. When he finally passed the finish line and collapsed on Prowl blocking out all view of anything whatsoever he was so big, even Prowl's venting was muffled.

For a long time he lay silently, his frame cooling down, ticking and popping sounds the only ones in the room. They were supposed to both be offline but for the past few ventures into the world of metallic orgasm Sentinel was the only one to finish the race to the metal as it were. He was left knitting at the starting line. Sentinel roused looked down at Prowl with a smug look. "Hi, beautiful."

Prowl frowned. "You weigh a ton."

"I weigh several tons," he said proudly disconnecting to roll off to the side. He rubbed his chassis idly with his servo and stared at the ceiling satisfaction fairly radiating off him.

"That was nothing I would write home about," Prowl finally ventured.

Sentinel turned his helm and stared at Prowl. "You under estimate yourself, Prowl."

"No, you over estimate yourself, Sentinel."

Of course, that went over well. He sat on the berth watching as Sentinel got up, turned on him and scowled. "I don't over estimate myself," he said. "I know how good I am."

"Really? I didn't even get a buzz. You were off down the road and I was still in the garage," Prowl said finally at long last standing up for himself.

"That's **your** problem, Prowl," he said defensively. "It's a two mech game, 'facing. You might put a little effort in it yourself."

At that point, Prowl lost every breakable he owned as Sentinel began a strategic retreat from Prowl's apartment. It also began the last campaign that Sentinel ever waged to get Prowl back.

Prowl quit thinking there. It would not be long after that Sentinel was murdered and Optimus came onto the scene. Out of the fathead and into the fryer. He grinned. Nice pun. Rising, he began to pace once more.

=0=Prime's office

He made up his mind, then he changed it. Then he made it up. Pausing, wavering, he changed it. Then he meched up. He made up his mind. :Prime to Prowl.:

:Prowl here:

Pause. Intense meching up. :Prowl, meet me in front of the hangar. By the bench.:

:Affirmative.:

Prime squared his massive shoulders, checked himself for dirt specks or other hindrances to the campaign ahead and strode to his door. Grasping the knob, wincing at the Decepticon Seekers currently warring in his tanks, he stepped out into the light to face the toughest battle of his life.

He was going to tell Prowl.

Something.

=0=Walking to the front of the hangar

Prowl felt his servos but his peds might have been on the body of another person. Prime wanted him. For business he considered but being around Prime lately had grown difficult. He continued onward.

=0=Nearby

Jazz saw Prime pass, then Prowl followed. Something was amiss. Prime looked nervous and Prowl looked fritzy. He followed determined to derail any attempts to derail a probable denouement that could spell happiness to the two hapless mechs passing by.

Outside Prime turned, Prowl stopping in front of him. "Sir?" Prowl asked looking at Prime with curious optics.

Prime lost in their soft blue luster lost his purpose. He stood staring. Prowl overcome with Prime's focus found himself staring silently.

Jazz overcome with their ineptitude also found himself staring.

Then It Happened.

Finally.

Prime touched Prowl's face, a smile forming on his lips. Prowl overcome gripped Prime's arm squeezing, a small smile forming on his own lips. Then they communicated off line, Jazz only guessing at the conversation. At this point, Prime turned and walked briskly into the hangar disappearing. Prowl standing a moment as still as a statue glanced around, ever proper and prim, then turned to walk equally briskly into the building.

Jazz standing nearby watching it all beeped Ratchet.

:Ratchet here. What's up, Jazz?:

:Prime in a couple of kliks I would say.:

It was silent a moment, then Jazz could feel the smile that came over the line to him.

:Operation Get Prowl Laid is a go?:

:Yep: was all Jazz could manage around the marching band in his processor.

=0=Half a joor later

Prime walked out of Prowl's office, a light skip to his step. He walked to the rec room and out the hangar door, on to the N.E.S.T. HQ for the early afternoon briefing and all around bull fest known as the daily staff meeting. He was happy, spark light and glowing. Jazz standing at the door to the Ops Center pausing before going on shift watched with a grin. Mirage owed him. Even though they had finally done it on their own he was going to take credit. After all, all is fair in love and war he considered.

Sometimes the humans were profound.

Then Prowl exited, his wings pert and his affect glowing. Jazz entered the Ops Center making for the sensor grid where he knew Prowl always went first. Hanging there, pretending to care, he watched as Prowl came toward him. Prowl paused nodding to Jazz, then stared at the grid, looking at it but not seeing it. The frenzied tryst in his office over his desk was still very much on the front of his processor.

"You look happy," Jazz said grinning.

"Uh, its a nice day."

"Um-hm. Nice tattoo."

Prowl glanced at him frowning slightly. "What?"

"Nice tattoo. Nice shade of blue," Jazz said glancing down.

On Prowl's thigh was a streak of blue paint, a souvenir if you will of a frenzied long overdue moment. He gasped and reached down covering it with his servo as he glanced around. Jazz snickered. "Keep it. A souvenir of 'two trains colliding'," he said quoting the report of the miscreant soldiers.

Prowl just shuttered his optics shaking his head slowly. "It never failed," he said. "Never.

=0=

 

The Diego Diaries: "It was a dark and stormy night ..."

 

=0=In the dark, in an officer's quarters

He lay in the darkness, his optics giving a weak glow as he stared at the ceiling. He had heard about Prime and Prowl from Ratchet when he had brought the medic his dinner. They had sat together discussing it, feeling exceedingly happy for the two of them. Then later on his own, Ironhide felt himself resenting the two. As he lay on the berth Ratchet stretched out beside him probably deep in recharge, the slagger, he was truly peeved.

/... those slaggers are probably 'facing like mad rabbits and here I am laying next to the only mech I ever craved and I'm not getting any … slagger .../ Ironhide ventured an optic and noted that Ratchet looked especially alluring. A part of him felt that it was deliberate, a chance to give him a permanent pucker in the appropriate interface accoutrements. He turned slightly, considering whether to roll onto his side and with his mechly form and wily ways trick Ratchet into putting out. Or at least, that is what the soldiers called it. Putting out what was still unclear. He refused to check out internet porn or medical sites. He was still recovering from the stuff Ratchet had told him one night early in their bivouac here.

===Then

"First, you have foreplay."

"What? What's that?" he had asked.

An act he would regret.

Ratchet looked at him. "That's their word for fumbling around and wrestling … you know, 'The Sexy' as you call it."

Ironhide noting the mild tone of condemnation in Ratchet's vocal processor looked back at his novel. The Battle of the Bastille had nothing on Ratchet when he wanted to get something done.

Such as aggravate him.

"Then," Ratchet continued smirking slightly at Ironhide's distracted disgust. "Then when you find that the desired effect is just so you insert-"

"Hold on," Ironhide said cutting Ratchet off at the pass. "I don't think I want to know who inserts what into where."

"Ironhide, you were told by Prime to learn about our new allies. I am just trying to help you." Ratchet grinned at Ironhide's discombobulation.

"I don't think I've ever been in a battle where it matters where a mech put his prong, Ratchet. I'm sure that happens to hold here too."

Ratchet laughed and grinned at Ironhide. "You are such a little femme," he said nudging Ironhide with a ped. "You little sparkling, you."

"I have no problem with the sexy stuff, Ratchet as you know well and good." He grinned with pride. "After all, I haven't heard any complaints by you over the many vorns I have been exclusively bringing the Doom of Ironhide to you."

"The Doom of Ironhide?" Ratchet asked delightedly. "Is that what you call it?"

"That is what **all** my mechs call it," he said, "both in and out of the berth."

"I am assuming you mean the D-cons whose aft you kick and me as it applies to the berth," Ratchet said, a devilish twinkle in his optics.

"Of course," Ironhide said tossing his novel down, affixing Ratchet with a smoky gaze. "I can show you if you are in need of servos-on experience."

"You always are ready with the encouraging word and helpful servo," Ratchet said as Ironhide gripped his peds to pull him off the chair and into his lap, bumping Ratchet's helm on the floor as he did. Ratchet sat straddling the big mech rubbing his helm.

"That wasn't exactly suave you know," Ratchet said slipping his arms around Ironhide's shoulders, grinning in spite of himself.

Ironhide smiled, taken once again with the pleasure of holding Ratchet after so many orns of camping in bivouac in an open hangar with everyone else. "Part of the price, Ratchet of bonding with a Chaos Bringer."

"Yeah," Ratchet said with a loving smile.

Then they didn't talk anymore.

===Now, again

Ironhide reviewed the highlight reel of 'facing with Ratchet that he always kept near during a long deployment without his bond or when they were sparring in a prank war. Then he shut it off as the desired effect, rolling over and having his way would not be coming and the torment of watching it on his internal screen was worse than hammering his ped with a pile driver.

"Ironhide."

He glanced over at Ratchet. "What?"

"You're fidgeting," Ratchet said opening an optic and fixing the dark form beside him with a smirk.

"I don't want to argue that point again, Ratchet. I don't 'fidget'. Prowl fidgets. Prime fidgets. What a stupid sounding word. Prowl and Prime are probably 'fidgeting' right now. How about you and me following our great leader's example?"

"Are you ready to surrender?" Ratchet asked.

"Nope."

"Then I guess you'll have to 'fidget' with yourself when no one is looking or hit the wash racks." Ratchet suppressed a chuckle. Then he turned and slipped his arm around Ironhide's chest snuggling close to him. Ironhide enjoying the comfort of Ratchet close to him turned his helm rubbing it against Ratchet's for a moment. Then he brought up a point. "This stuff falls into The Sexy and is off limits under the The Rules of Prank Warfare."

Ratchet smirked and snuggled closer. "Snuggling isn't against the rules."

"It's fraternization," Ironhide persisted. "Not that I'm against a little fraternization if you take my meaning."

"You want to 'face?" Ratchet asked tracing a line of glyphs that Ironhide had engraved into the lines and curves of his face and scattered about his massive chassis and limbs. A number of the more prominent of them were Ratchet's name. Most of them were religious and philosophical comments as well as quotations from the Oracles and other self-chosen documents he had picked to commemorate the stages of his life as he grew up to acquire new protoforms.

When he had bonded with Ratchet, he had placed Ratchet's name and a few lines from a love poem that had told the world that Ironhide was exclusive to a single mech and why. Ratchet had his own and prominent in a couple of places was Ironhide's name with comments of love from Ratchet to him. It was the way of their people to do this and they were nothing if not traditional.

"Do you?" Ironhide asked hopefully. "Wanna 'face that is?"

"Sure." Ratchet traced a reference on Ironhide's arm. It told of solidarity with the Cause of the Autobots, a statement of fidelity with their Prime as well as the culture and mores of his people. A religious salutation to Primus rounded it out.

"I'm not surrendering," Ironhide said. "I'm not built to be a carrier. You're the nurturer. I'm the blower-upper."

Ratchet snorted and laughed moving even closer to his bond mate, feeling a sense of loving peacefulness in doing so. "The blower-upper? That's you, Chaos Bringer of the Autobots."

"So … you wanna 'face?" Ironhide asked hopefully.

"Yeah."

"Are you going to give in and 'face or are you a tease?"

"What do you think, ba-bee?" Ratchet asked smirking.

Ironhide smirked and moved, sliding his arm under Ratchet, pulling him up to lay half on and half off his body. "Good night, Ratchet."

"Good night, my darling Ironhide," Ratchet whispered smiling with contentment.

Ironhide smiled too.

=0=Next day

The sun was overhead when the call came in. There was intel from Interpol that a weapons deal was going to occur once again and it would be in Denver, Colorado this time. The Decepticons were after a connection to continue their efforts to sow discord among the human population regarding Transformers in general and they would have to dispatch a recon team to check out the area to discover what they could about a shadowy organization that called itself The Militia.

The Southern Poverty Law Center had been tracking them when they came onto the radar and found them to be an as yet undefined group that was affiliated with a nationwide motorcycle gang that had international ties with gun runners and drug cartels. They were looking for weaponry to sell according to intel received through an aggressive network of deep cover spies and agents. The first step for the Autobots and N.E.S.T. was to go to Denver and use their detection capabilities to see if the rumors of alien intervention and equipment were even true.

Prime agree and the plan with the help of Prowl's analytical skills was to call in Bumblebee to be the point mech on the ground, coupling him when they arrived with Sargent Epps. Hound, Springer and Ironhide would be a part of the advance ground team with Optimus Prime being in overall charge in the circling plane overhead. This would be an excursion to verify. If there was to be an intervention, if the material checked out, there would be numerous specialized mechs and separate strike teams for part two.

Optimus walked from N.E.S.T. HQ, his mind buzzing with plans and all the assorted steps that had to be taken to ensure a smooth operation, especially one with another team involved, the humans. Prowl would stay at Autobot Ops Center directing intel, formulating strategy as well as monitoring and positioning Teletraan III and its assorted space-going components.

At no point in his deliberations did he consider that he had only just now found his footing with Prowl, that they would be separated for an indeterminate time and that one of them would be in danger when it happened. It was how it was in the world of Optimus Prime, his deep abiding responsibilities to his mechs, the Cause and the people of Cybertron who were massing on faraway shores, all of them dependent upon him to help alleviate their suffering and homelessness.

That was all he considered, his people, the mission and their allies as he entered the Autobot Complex that morning in November in Diego Garcia.

=0=

 

Rolling On

 

=0=Diego, that same morning 

Prime had stood in his office, the burdens he had carried alone seemingly lessened now. It was astounding that in the space of a few joors he could feel reborn. He couldn't remember when it had all changed, the view of Prowl that had been in his processor, his perception of the moods and mannerisms of that singular mech. He couldn't remember when he had changed. Prime just knew that he had. It **was** a change too, not an infatuation, a flirtation or something transient.

Prowl had always been important to him but unknowable. The mech was private and reserved, exceedingly capable and always ahead of the curve, almost reading his processor in getting, collating, combining, structuring and thinking about what was needed, necessary and when it had to materialize in his servo, on his desk or among the mechs. It was almost preternatural, Prowl's ability to be all that he needed, all that they all needed in a moment's pivot point. He never in all the vorns that he had been Prime had another second-in-command.

Prowl was always there.

And yet for some reason Prime had only just now come to see him in three dimensions. That calm and steady presence, the doer and the thinker had become the thought about, the one **Prime** wanted to do things for, to take care of the way Prowl took care of just about everything and everyone else. If he had to remove Prowl from his operation, from the Army, from his life it would bring chaos as well as extra hands and minds in to fill the gaping hole that such a thing would mean. It would also bring crippling loneliness and despair.

For Prime, seeing him everyday, looking at his quiet beauty, listening to his soft voice give encouragement and direction, to see his gentle optics comfort with his steadiness, calm encouragement with his steadfast belief and to do all the harder things without malice, that had become for Prime a mosaic into which he wanted to insert his own graphic. He wanted Prime and Prowl to become Prime and **his** Prowl.

For some reason it had all come to him in a crystal clear moment,. Perhaps his stint in the Matrix had cleared away the confusion about what he could **allow** himself and what he wanted. He was Prime, a mech in a long line of mechs who were entrusted with the greatest gift and the greatest burden Cybertron could bestow, the care and protection of their people and their way of life.

When the news that the twins had an altercation with soldiers who were speaking ill of them, criticizing their relationships and their way of life and culture, it had been a blow. That had given him pause for a moment, the consideration that what they took as their specie's norm was found to be derisive within the hosts who had given them space to stay here, the humans. They weren't humans even though they had some similar ways. They were metallic lifeforms, Cybertronians and Autobots. They did what they did because that was who they were and what they did, not because they had other options. They lived in homes, raised families, went to school, sent their offspring there and enjoyed lives with goals and enjoyments that were very similar. They had culture, art, history, music and religion too. It was who and what they were.

But it had also reinforced something that had been percolating in his mind since arrival in this solar system. Ironhide had disclosed to him that Ratchet was after a sparkling. He had grinned and laughed, encouraging them even as he knew Ironhide would never become a carrier. Their people needed the hope, the belief that things would become normal again. A sparkling would do that. Birth would mean rebirth could happen once more.

Within his chest, nestled close to the spark that defined him was the Creation Matrix, the Autobot Matrix of Leadership. It contained access to the previous Primes, to the entire experiential information database of every Cybertronian who had ever lived. It could create life and restore it. It was his honor, his burden and it was a beacon into the night of their current sad condition, twinkling brightly for a lot of his lost forlorn people who were waiting for him, their Prime to save them from despair. He felt the burden acutely and now with his change of perspective he wasn't alone in bearing it. Prowl was on his side as ever but he was also by his side personally. He considered his biggest project when he entered the Ops Center, deciding to let Prowl help him. The chance his people needed and the one he had to fight to get them was coming together in his processor. He needed to confide with those who would help make it happen. Not just for them he considered but for the sparklings and younglings who would come and those that were here, those that had no concept of a permanent safe home world.

But that would come after the threat subsided a little. For now, it was the task at hand that mattered. So he soldiered on, the hope for their future on hold to ensure that the now would be something they could all bear.

=0=California

Bumblebee honked outside the dorm where the Allspark slept. It was late and he had texted Sam on the cell that had his personal number. He could of course hack into any system and make all the calls he wanted and he did. Of course, Prime couldn't learn that or he would get The Lecture about being personally responsible. He was a youngling mech who missed his friends in Diego sometimes and so he 'experimented' with his 'skills', keeping them honed to the greatest degree possible while he protected the Allspark.

He hacked his phone and text calls for free.

A figure shambled quickly down the walkway, Sam in his jammies and slippers, a jacket thrown over them, his face sleepy. "Bee," he said, entering the car as the door opened. He sat and the door closed gently. "What's up? I got your text."

"I'm heading for Denver," Bee said. "Prime needs recon. While I'm gone, Smokescreen will be coming. He's being dropped off tomorrow on a military plane that is coming into Vandenburg Air Base and will be here with only a small window without you protected. I just want you to keep low and wait until you see him."

"He'll let me know he's here?" Sam asked yawning deeply.

"He will," Bee replied. "You'll like him. He's a gambler."

"No kidding?" Sam asked intrigued. "You have gamblers?"

"We all are, Sam," Bee replied with a chuckle. "Go inside and keep a low profile. Smokescreen will text you and Teletraan has you on the radar. We will protect you, Sam."

"Be careful, Bee," Sam said leaning forward to go. "You driving there and then what? Is anyone going to help you or are you on your own?" His tone was worried and it warmed Bee.

"Ironhide, Hound and Springer are going to be there and Prime will direct it from the air," Bee replied, his door swinging open.

"Springer, huh," Sam said grinning. "Are you sure Optimus wants the little woman to be in battles?"

Bee laughed, the car vibrating. "I wouldn't say that to Springer if I were you, Sam. Ask Smokescreen about the Wreckers."

"I will," Sam said patting the dashboard fondly. "Take care and come back without bullet holes, okay?"

"I will," Bee said watching as Sam walked to the dorm and entered. Then he closed his door and began to roll away moving toward the interstate and Denver many miles away. As he did, a car rolled slowly behind him. Barricade, his signature heavily dampened and his alt vehicle form changed moved along slowly past the dorm and followed Bumblebee as he rolled east, unseen and unnoticed by the Autobot.

=0=At Diego Garcia

The hubbub of shipping out on assignment filled the base with activity. Soldiers gathered their gear, Epps leading three of them with him as they gathered to board Silverbolt. The striker team would be going with Hound, Springer and Ironhide to seek out a possible violation of the Tyrest Accord. The Code of Interplanetary Conflict binding both Autobots and Decepticons forbid the transmission of Transformer technology to others. The situation at hand was potentially the second attempt by the Decepticons to facilitate this violation.

It had been enforced by officers like Ultra Magnus in the past but now it was up to N.E.S.T., among all their other duties to prevent the catastrophic possibility of humans obtaining weapons beyond their capacity to handle.

Ironhide gathered his gear together, deciding the munitions he would arm with and carry in subspace. The armory was a third level subsurface warehouse at their complex surrounded by the hardest metal they could bring, cybertanium. The blast doors were two feet thick and the lock was a rotating combination. He stood in front of the rack with munitions for his canons, tapping them for the characteristic tanging sound that proofed them for him. Standing behind him, watching with a guarded expression was Ratchet who was not going along. At least not in the first wave.

No one expected to make contact and if they did, a second wave of reinforcements were going to be waiting on deck in Diego to fly to the battle courtesy of Cosmos. The human civilians didn't want a 'chaotic confrontation by aliens' in their city. Ratchet used to dealing with nervous civilians from his years as Optimus Prime's appointed diplomat felt exasperation nonetheless. It meant that there could be a lag time and lag times meant deaths were more, not less likely to happen.

Ironhide finished and turned nodding to Ratchet who turned and followed him out and upward, moving past stockpiles of supplies gathered by Cosmos on many trips to far flung places, pulling things together for an as yet undisclosed venture that Prime was planning. They reached the barracks level and continued onward to the staging area out front. Springer and Hound were already there and Smokescreen had left earlier, hurrying onward to fill in the gap brought about by Bumblebee's deployment to the area where the Decepticons were reported to be venturing.

Prowl and Prime were nearby huddled over a datapad and the soldiers were gathering a short space away, standing or sitting on packs, their parachutes on the ground next to their weapons. They would be dropping into the Coors Field, itself dark and empty of prying eyes. The area they needed to search was the general vicinity, an old warehouse district filled with dive bars and a slowly gentrifying eclectic selection of shops and housing.

Ironhide and Ratchet paused standing together as others, those who weren't going came to wish them a safe journey, Primus blessed and swift. Finally, Optimus hugged Prowl, kissing him and turning, looking back at his crew with a nod. They began to gather gear, moving toward Silverbolt who stood patiently on the tarmac for them. Ratchet watched and then turned gazing intently at Ironhide. "Come back, Ironhide," he said quietly.

"I will," Ironhide said. "I'll probably see you there."

"Prime is sending us behind you anyway," Ratchet said nodding. "Expect it."

They stared a moment and then embraced holding each other tightly. The soldiers gathering their gear averted their eyes, sympathy mixing with surprise at both Ironhide and Ratchet as well as Prime and Prowl. Then they let go, kissing softly. Ratchet nodded, folding his arms over his chassis, watching as Ironhide turned and walked toward the jet. He climbed into the hold and sat by the door helping the others inside until all were aboard. Then the door closed, at last obscuring him from Ratchet's clear view.

Prowl standing to watch nearby walked over and stood with him as Thunderbolt rose and flew away into the late afternoon sun, fading at last from view.

=0=

 

The Diego Diaries: Tyrest 

 

=0=On the wing

Ironhide sat beside Springer talking softly about a number of commonalities in Cybertronian. Prime sitting near the cockpit internally communicating with Silverbolt received the most recently updated intel from the Denver FBI office which was the communications hub for the mission. The local police were given only the sketchiest information so as not to jeopardize the mission and they would not be part of the strike force, only providing security for the cordoned off areas once the miscreants were located and subdued. It had not gone over well. It reminded Prime of the overlapping jurisdictions of the many city-states on Cybertron. They had some things in common, Earth and Cybertron after all.

Epps and his soldiers leaned against the bulkhead of the great vessel that flew them soundlessly through the gathering night sky. He marveled once again that it was a living being they were leaning against, a living sentient being. Across from him were ancient living sentient beings, Autobots who had forgotten more about his profession than he would ever live to learn.

This was the first mission since the altercation with Johnson and Hedges. He had been ashamed and deeply embarrassed with the chaos they had committed and the three of them, Lennox, Graham and himself had sat their men and women down reading them the riot act. But for the restraint of the Autobots, Sunstreaker's anger not withstanding, there could have been a massacre. They didn't have to like some of the parts of Cybertron that the Autobots lived, they didn't have to think their relationships were personally okay. They just had to shut the fuck up, be professional and observe. Maybe in the observing, maybe in the behavior of these most appreciated and respected strangers in their midst they would learn something and maybe change.

He had.

The first time he had seen Ironhide hug Ratchet he considered them to be friends greeting each other. The soldiers did sometimes hug each other. Lord knew, they swatted each others ass often enough. It was sort of the norm. But then he saw Ironhide kiss Ratchet and that had shocked him. He was used to the Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy and the idea that **robots** could be gay was so strange he had to stop and consider it. But then, he was also shocked that robots **had** personal relationships of any kind that seemed emotionally satisfying and maybe even sexual in nature. That part he didn't dwell on but he assumed if they kissed they did other things too. How? He didn't even venture. He just assumed. Then he found out they weren't gay, they were alien with alien ways and designs, Cybertronian not human. Gender wasn't an issue to them, a concept he was still trying to understand. You loved who you loved regardless of gender and with the lack of femmes- the base itself had only Arcee and her trine- it would make sense.

It was also all too confusing.

Assume makes an ass out of you and me.

His mother's voice filled his head and he smiled. Hound sitting across from him smiled back. "You seem amused," he said shifting his big frame slightly.

"I was thinking of my mother," Bobby said.

Hound nodded. "Your genitors? Are they still living?"

Epps smiled and nodded. "They are. They live in Ohio."

Hound scanned an internal map and smiled. "A very flat place, Ohio. I would like to go there eventually. I would like to add Ohio to my topographical map collection. I would love to go with Trailblazer," he added wistfully." He smiled. "I love your planet."

"I can see that," Epps smiled remembering a small mission that the two had undertaken at the beginning of the Autobot-Human alliance. He and Hound had tracked a signal that had led them on a different path than the rest of their party. Riding in Hound, allowing his incredible skills to find the Decepticon they had been after, they ended up at a drive-in where a movie was playing. The Decepticon had fled and was taken care of but Hound in his sweet naivete had asked him a question, still not getting it that not all the vehicles he saw on Earth were sentient like himself.

"I don't understand what that place was where we found the con."

Epps looked up at the Autobot getting him at last. Hound was a good soul, he loved the world around him and he wasn't a violent mech. They had captured the con when it had been reasonable in Epp's mind that blowing his ass to the Matrix would have been easier. But he found that Hound had a good spark and he wasn't a shoot first mech if they could do it another way. "What, Hound?" he had asked as they sat together guarding a battered offline but alive Decepticon.

"What is that place, Robert? Is it a religious place?"

Epps frowned. "Religious?"

Hound nodded. "Are the cars gathered there for a religious purpose?"

Epps found in his heart a special place for Hound at that moment and among the Autobots he was probably the one that made him the most happy when he came into view. There was something so endearing and kind in that Autobot's spark that he just nodded. "Actually, Hound, there are plenty who find drive-ins a religious experience, not just the cars." Flashes of the many times he had gotten laid in the back seat of his Dad's Buick crossed his mind and many of them he considered religious. He smiled now. Then he made a common mistake. "What about yours, Hound?" The moment the words left his mouth he was sorry.

A slight cloud crossed the sunshine that was Hound's spark and he shook his head. "Gone."

"I'm sorry, Hound. I'm sorry I said anything," Epps said feeling low.

"Don't let it bother you, Robert. It's just the way it is," Hound said sadly, looking off to one side. "It can't be that way forever."

"It won't," Epps said wholeheartedly. "You have Earth and you have us."

Hound smiled and looked at him with affection, this human who was probably his favorite. "I know," he said softly. Then he smiled again.

Springer watching Hound leaned back, his own thoughts filling his processor. Hound was his polar opposite. Hound didn't do more violence than he needed and he, Springer was a Wrecker, the last chance go-to mech for necessary carnage and the hopeless case. He didn't know even now how he, Kup and the others could still be alive. Too many Wrecker crews weren't but he and his comrades, the original Wreckers were still this side of the Matrix. And they were back, most of them with their Prime. He smiled slightly too thinking about the prank.

Most of the humans were scandalized about it, finding it an almost incomprehensible thing that a dignified important mech like Prime would stoop so low as to prank another mech even if it was Ironhide. Especially Ironhide, the slagger. He glanced at Ironhide, the mech sitting beside him quietly lost in his own thoughts as he checked his weapons. They had no animosity about the prank, they were pros and they had a running tab on who was due to be slagged and who was ahead in the game.

It made war bearable.

But for Springer, himself no shrinking violet there was a side to Prime he knew that maybe others didn't. That kiss he had given Prime outside the hangar when they sprang their little ruse on Ironhide was not the first one. They had an off and on again relationship borne of war and mutual neediness over the vorns that had served them both well. Few knew and they were not in a hurry for that to change. But change it did when it became clear to Springer that Prowl was the one that mattered to Prime. Circumstances had made further assignations impossible and now that Prime had made his move on the taciturn strategist and all-around Autobot tactical genius he was glad. They had clashed nearly every time Prowl had needed them. Springer had shredded many a carefully crafted battle plan but they had never failed and that had held fire between them. They both had the same goal, just different paths to that same place.

"We're almost there," Prime said, his baritone confident and firm breaking the silence. "Get ready to jump."

The men moved slipping on their parachutes and strapping them tightly. Guns were gripped and other gear sorted and fastened onto their belts. The Autobots tensed, some of them checking their weapons before turning, the jump door of Silverbolt's fuselage blinking with a red light. Prime listening to someone offline nodded at Ironhide, the big mech standing and walking to the door. He punched a row of buttons, entering a code and it slid down revealing the maw of a dark Colorado night, snow falling silently and blowing into a vortex of swirling cold as Silverbolt began to circle.

Ironhide looked at Epps and nodded, the soldiers rising. Epps led them to the door and looked down, the small dot of lights agreed upon at Coors Field marking their landing zone. One-by-one, he tapped his soldiers and they jumped. Then he nodded to Ironhide and jumped himself. Ironhide, looking at the others nodded again. Springer, a grin on his face and his rifle in his servos jumped and was followed by a more serious Hound. Looking back at Prime, nodding to his closest oldest friend, getting a nod back, Ironhide jumped into the night. Prime watched him go and rapped his knuckles against Silverbolt's hull. The door closed and it was silent again. Picking up a datapad, Prime reviewed it even as data poured in from Diego, Prowl's calm voice directing traffic and intel as the jump team's whispers filled his processor.

=0=Diego

Ratchet carried his emergency gear to Cosmos who stood waiting for them to go. Prime had ordered that they follow ten minutes behind. The human ground crew wouldn't know where they were going and the soldiers that were coming with them weren't telling. They had latitude in disclosure in the Autobot treaty as well as N.E.S.T. protocols and they to use them. Those going walked out loaded and those not going took the burden from Ratchet and First Aid to help. First Aid going for the mission because Ratchet 'had a strange feeling about this one', something that sometimes paid off but usually didn't hurried along. Behind him slagging each other cheerfully, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Arcee herself came too. They loaded up, the door closed and Cosmos rose into the air soundlessly. He was lost to sight almost immediately.

The Autobots watching turned and walked back to the hangar where the audio of the operation as standard procedure was broadcast. It was sent to the humans as part of N.E.S.T. governing protocols and they were using them. The video of the individual Autobots would only be broadcast in the Embassy Ops Center. Graham, Lennox and three other soldiers were already gathered at Cosmos boarding their gear.

Autobots who weren't on duty lounged throughout the entire building complex listening and watching. In Ops Center calmly turning this way and that, giving orders and encouragement in his usual manner, Prowl held sway. Somewhere in this new world, this new reality, the best they had were going to war. He had their back and he used all his skills, his ability and his software to make sure that they would come home alive again.

=0=At the drop zone

They gathered together outside of the pools of light that the tall overhead poles dropped around the field. The Autobots hit the target dead center and moved to join the others. A grid had been determined and the search would go accordingly. Hound would take Epps, Ironhide and Springer a soldier apiece. They would all be linked to each other, to Prime and to Diego. They would follow the search order and adjust according to the ground situation and the direction of their commanders.

They transformed, loaded up and rolled to the exits that accommodated vehicles, briefly exchanging words with the F.B.I. agents that were there to let them out and guard the space as their field HQ and triage center. Nothing more could be added to what they already knew and so they moved out pulling out onto 20th Street. At that point, they divided up and began to parallel each other, their sensor sweeps combing the area for signatures and Bumblebee.

There was no sign of either.

=0=Somewhere in the Four Corners area

Bumblebee racing at his top speed flying over the sparsely traveled road almost made it to Colorado. That he didn't was testimony to the figure chasing him. Clocking in some of the flatter sections of roadway at an astounding 230 miles per hour, he was losing the footrace. A lucky hit by the pursuer's gyro-flight blades not only told Bee who was pursuing him but managed to carve a series of slashing injuries in his chassis that had been leaking energon for miles. He felt the pain and dialed down his receptors but he couldn't do much with the injury. He had to outrun or out think Barricade soon or he would falter and be at the killer's mercy. He barreled onward ignoring as best he could the warning messages popping up in his processor.

=0=Denver

20th Street was deserted and from the accumulation of snow falling would be slow recovering in the morning when people came back to the area. It was rising in the increasing flurries obscuring the vision of the soldiers. Epps sitting in Hound peered into the darkness, splotches of illumination from street lights failing to be much help. The storm was increasing making an already difficult mission harder.

They broke into three hunting groups, Hound and Epps rolling slowly down Blake Street, Springer and his soldier moving down Market and Ironhide driving off for another parallel street nearby, rolling down 20th. Hound and Epps going against the one way traffic on Blake, a thoroughly deserted street this dark night moved along, Hound's sensors stretched out searching. Springer moved down Market going with the flow, his heavy duty green and yellow Ram Charger pickup truck alt vehicle form filling with falling snow. For a moment it was quiet, then a huge blast echoed slightly muffled by the storm. Springer stopped and tumbled his soldier out, transforming as he brought his rifle from subspace. He glanced at his soldier who was standing in knee deep snow in night vision glasses, his weapon ready. Signaling him to stay along the buildings and back behind his towering form, Springer moved swiftly toward Blake Street where the epicenter of the blast had originated.

=0=On Silverbolt

Optimus concentrated on the screens that played out internally, an assortment of information both visual, text and audio flowing into his processor. A split screen allowed him to have two views of his divided team. The top three views were the visual picture each mech had in their field of vision. The bottom views were the readouts on their internal sensor screens. They had conjoined the information to their controller mech, their Prime and allowed it to be transferred to Prowl in Diego.

Prime could see what Hound could see. An enormous rush of a black shape swooping downward, then a missile launch. Unable to transform because Epps was riding inside, Hound swerved and when the missile hit the ground near to him he was thrown bodily off his tires and into the building that was beside him, glass and bricks shattering in the impact. Then his two screens went black. By the time they did, Optimus Prime was already falling through the night on his way to Coors Field.

=0=Diego

"Prowl to Cosmos."

"Cosmos, Prowl."

"Hurry. There are injuries. Hound is down."

"Affirmative," Cosmos said, the line cutting out.

Prowl holding a datapad handed to him by Red Alert, the mech standing before him nearly quivering with tension turned and glanced at it.

"Aerialbots, Prowl," he said in his indomitable manner. "Three incoming and another two mechs as yet unidentified but Autobot."

"Red, go get them and tell them to get here as fast as you can. I want them scrambled immediately. You run them, get them the information they need to function straight off the ground and hurry."

Red Alert nodded and turned blazing out of the Ops Center for the beach side landing space the incoming Autobots used when they finally made the journey to Earth. Prowl considering the Primus-sent gift that it was turned and commed Prime.

"Aerialbots will be sent shortly," he said his transmission clipped and tense. "It appears that Teletraan has picked up Seekers."

"Affirmative," Prime said. "Get the medbay ready to accept incoming. Have you heard from Bumblebee?"

"Negative. I will reposition a satellite and scan the roadway from California."

"Good. I will keep you posted. Prime out."

Prowl heard the tension in his voice, the focus and knew that it must be trouble in a big way for him to make the jump. He worried about Hound even as he alerted the medbay. Then he commed Ratchet. "Prowl to Ratchet."

"Ratchet here."

"There are going to be wounded. Hound fell off the radar. He won't respond. Triage at Coors Field."

"Affirmative. Ratchet out."

He paused and then turned walking to Teletraan and began to key in a very powerful long range camera to scan the highway with all its gullies and off roads between California and Colorado.

=0=

TBC 2010 (11)

I am still adding adorable and interesting tidbits that I have found about the Autobots doing research into the mix. They are not following the basic continuity from which they come but they add to this story. Thank you for the kind remarks. You have no idea how important that is to a writer. -Helmboy/Arctapus

 

=0=

 

The Diego Diaries: "His servos."

 

=0=On the Arizona desert

He drove as fast as he could, airborne half the time as he raced for Denver and the possibility that the Decepticons would be trying to give Cybertronian technology to criminal humans. By now, Smokescreen would be with Sam, sitting outside his dorm sensors cast wide and optics sighted in.

Behind Bee driving fast enough to keep up, Barricade considered his orders. He wasn't to intervene in the Autobot's trip until he reached the border of Colorado. Then he was to maim Bee and leave him crumpled in the dust by the side of the road. Starscream didn't tell him why he wasn't to finish off the mini-con. He was just to follow orders.

It rankled.

Barricade was an intense bad ass killer who fervently believed if he could see you then you were already dead. He loathed Starscream and followed Megatron because he respected him more. But here on Earth with Megatron missing, the subcommander was in charge. He didn't like it but he liked Bumblebee even less. The last time they had clashed the mini-con had trashed him. He had had to recover without treatment and there were still kinks in his system that hampered his effectiveness. For that, the Autobot deserved to die very slowly and painfully.

"Injure him, break him. Make the Allspark know it was us. But do not kill him, Barricade. Do as I say," the hulking Seeker had hissed at him, his venomous stupidity here as insulting to a professional mayhem bringer like Barricade as it was on Cybertron. He pushed to the limit of his top speed, the yellow flank of the mini-con finally hoving into view once more.

=0=On the ground in Denver

Prime transformed and peeled out blowing through the gates and the humans who stepped aside to let him go. He turned the corner at 20th and Blake going against the traffic designation plowing through the accumulating snow with ease. By the time he had reached the scene, Ratchet was already there with the twins, Arcee and First Aid. He transformed and moved forward gently grasping Hound's rear fender as they turned him over. He sat down on his tires with a muffled thud, Robert Epps flailing inside.

Ratchet pulled him out gently handing him to Prime. Prime set him down on the sidewalk, positioning him out of the wind and under a battered awning. He turned and watched as Ratchet reached inside of Hound and activated his transformation cog. Slowly, grindingly, he did, sprawling face down in the show. They turned him over as Ratchet scanned him, pulling and patching on the fly a number of deep wounds from shattered steel girders, flying bricks and mortar. As they stood waiting for Ratchet to signal Hound's transfer, another series of blasts ripped the street and they stepped back for shelter. Ratchet flinging himself over Hound looked up and cursed after the Seeker flew upward.

"Prime to Prowl."

"Prowl."

"Aerialbots."

"On their way," Prowl said glancing at the radar. It had been remarkable how quickly they had assimilated formats and taken off flying at top speed toward the shores of North America. Teletraan had downloaded the shortest route between Diego and Colorado and they were off, flying in a tight formation, changing places periodically to allow half the team to draft behind the leaders. "I put their ETA all being equal in about one and a half breems."

"We have Seekers," Prime said. "Make sure they hurry. Silverbolt will rendezvous but not before they are here to add air support."

"Affirmative."

"Ratchet has Hound. We will load him on Cosmos and send him to Diego. Have rescue on the tarmac. Send Cosmos back and have him post in a high orbit."

"Affirmative, sir," Prowl said as Prime turned back to the problem at hand.

He stood in the storm snow accumulating when a pip on his sensors read Decepticon. He rapped Springer directing him to take Sunstreaker, retrace back to the Field and go up Wewatta Street, then right on Park Avenue West. They nodded and transformed leaving in a flurry of snow. Turning to Sideswipe and Arcee, he directed them to give cover to Ratchet as he sent a signal to the triage center that there would be wounded coming in. He transformed, his trailer beckoning and after loading Hound, the two Autobots with Epps safely and warmly inside Sideswipe left to return to their field HQ. Sideswipe covered their retreat and Ratchet lead the way.

=0=Ironhide

He drove slowly along 20th moving toward the next left turn, a road named Market Street that paralleled Blake. Turning into the flow of the traffic, traffic that wasn't there due to the storm he heard and saw the blast that took out Hound. Turning, flooring it as best he could he drove to the corner where 22nd Street crossed Market.

=0=Prime and Sideswipe

They barreled out of Coors Field heading down 20th Street and back up Blake. As they did the signature of a Decepticon was beginning to appear through the interference of the storm. They parked in the middle of the street, then transformed and pinged Ironhide. He pinged back. On a heavily encrypted line Sideswipe poised beside him, his battle face and swords his armor, Prime laid out the plan. The signature was ahead and given the attack so far they could not assume that the Cons didn't know they were being hunted or that the Decepticon registering was no more than another trick.

The two moved out and were roughly half a block behind Ironhide so he waited, letting his soldier out as he transformed, his canons coming online. He knelt down on one knee giving directions to the soldier who went to a building using it for cover, sweeping the street and buildings around with his night vision goggles, his weapon pointing in each direction he turned. Rising, Ironhide counted off the kliks and then moved sensing that he and the other two were in sync.

=0=Nearby

The irritated form of Scorponok stood in the snow of an alleyway off Market sensors recording forms nearby of Cybertronian origin. His radar was still suspect after the debacle in Egypt, the level of mechanical medical treatment he had received being minimal if that much. Starscream had not been terribly interested in his personal problems. He just wanted him to do what he did almost better than anyone else, deliver weapons and other technology to aliens in violation of the Tyrest Treaty.

He wasn't the smartest bot in the galaxy but he was cunning, wily, tenacious and unafraid. He had secreted in his body a fusion weapon, one that was slated to be dropped off at a particular place in this Primus forsaken warren of insect houses and streets. A human insect would be there to get it but they were late. The storm he considered, the storm has made a routine drop off problematic. He knew that Starscream, their nominal leader while their real and only leader was elsewhere, wherever that was would be seriously fragged. He didn't care. The cold was harming his systems, he was alone in a city that he didn't know and there were Autobots around.

He considered how he had eluded Ultra Magnus for eons and he felt the same confidence now. That would be his first big mistake. His second would be what he did with that confidence.

=0=Ironhide

He stalked listening through the howling wind, peered through the howling snowfall. It was streaming into his face, the wind carrying it full on straight. Reaching the corner of 22nd Street, he paused in the shadows waiting until Prime and Sideswipe's signatures reached the same place on their street a block away. They pinged their presence and Ironhide ran to the middle of the intersection hunkering down. Covering Prime and Sideswipe, they hurried across on Blake and waited on the other side of the intersection while Ironhide arose turning to cross himself.

That is when the sound of a screaming engine came through the haze and muffled silence, the sound of a Seeker on a strafing run. Prime and Sideswipe turned as one and drawing on sensors targeting, fired. The Seeker lay down fire and flew upward again, the three turning to fire on it. As they did another one flying perpendicularly to the other lay down fire through 22nd Street, through the Blake Street intersection scattering Prime and Sideswipe and along the street through the Market Street intersection where Ironhide stood.

Ironhide turned and jumped but the weapons fire hit him spinning him in the air and all four point nine metric tons of the big mech hit the ground hard. He rolled and rolled slamming into a building taking out a light pole, the electricity popping and sparking before the block east of him went dark.

Just one block from them, leaning against a building blinded by the snowfall Scorponok having guided the Seeker strafing runs felt only deep disgust at their failure so he cut his losses and began to dig. He dug down through the asphalt street, through the pipes and lines below and by the time they would find his departure point later, he was thirty miles away moving underground tunneling his way south.

=0=Near the Colorado border

He stood on the gully side staring down into the shallow ravine. It was a basin carved from flooding and though it wasn't deep barreling through the air at over two hundred miles an hour and falling in it was a bad thing to occur to one's confidence and chassis. Barricade stood on the lip of the hill, the road nearby showing the shredded tires of the spectacular accident that had taken the Autobot out of the game. It took all he had to turn and transform, leaving the little yellow pile of scrap behind.

/... later, you little fragger. Later when it doesn't matter … you and me.../

=0=Coors Field

They were loading Hound when Ratchet bent over, his cry piercing the muffled silence of the Field. He clawed at his chassis and hung for a moment bent over with an incredible pain. Then he straightened, Sunstreaker holding him erect, his servo gripping Ratchet's arm. He looked at Sunny, then the others, turning with growing panic. "Ironhide," he whispered. Then he cried out and moved forward shaking free of Sunstreaker's grip. Running, transforming on the fly, he tore across the grounds, through the gate and into the storm. Behind him rolling equally as fast, Springer, Sunstreaker and a human squad car followed.

=0=On the street

They turned Ironhide over, the damage to his chest significant. There was burned armor that was still smoking in spots and a hole in his chest. Prime knelt holding Ironhide's face searching the big mech for any sign of life. As they stood shielding Ironhide from the falling snow, the curses and cries for medics echoed over the comm link from the street where they huddled onward to the corridors, rooms and hangars of Diego Garcia.

The human HQ had a text and visual feed but audio involving Autobots was not permitted. Their soldiers could speak and they heard them but the Autobot comm lines were for the Autobot HQ only. Confusion and cross purposes were eliminated that way but the orderly chaos of the human N.E.S.T. HQ was in stark contrast to the tension and quiet attentiveness of the Autobots. They stood in knots, alone and at stations listening to the explosions, screaming of tires, curses, shots and felt dread. Ironhide was down. Hound was down. They all itched to be there.

A screeching sound could be heard but they didn't know for a moment that it was Ratchet transforming and sliding on his side for a distance in the ice and snow. He clawed his way to his peds and hurried to the side of his bond. Ironhide was still, offline and for all intents and purposes seemingly dead in initial appearance. Prime was kneeling, holding Ironhide's head off the ground in his servos, the expression on his face terrible to see. The others, the soldiers and the Autobots gathered around forming a perimeter around them. Some looked up, their firearms pointed to the sky and others knelt in the circle, their weapons pointed outward covering the streets.

Ratchet began by pulling Ironhide further over onto his back. And then in the darkness of the dimmed street under a falling snow he could see the blue flickering light of Ironhide's spark faintly through the hole in his chest.

=0=Aerialbots

They reached Colorado blasting into the airspace of the Mile High City finding a faint trace of the Seekers who had cut their loses and ran. They radioed Silverbolt whose joy at their appearance at last on Earth was cut short by the terrifying traffic over his audios. While he waited to transport the wounded and the team they gave cover overhead.

=0=Ratchet and Ironhide

Ratchet saw the hole and he saw his servos but nothing else. He saw the hole and he feverishly worked to protect it, the notched corner of Ironhide's spark chamber damaged, his spark vulnerable. Ratchet subbed a tool kit tearing it open with his servos, scattering tools as he searched for what he needed. Prime holding Ironhide still even though the mech hadn't moved watched Ratchet as he muttered unintelligibly to himself turning to work as swiftly as he dared to stabilize Ironhide.

His servos, all Ratchet saw was the hole and his servos.

He moved and straddled Ironhide peering into the wound. He reached for a tool and removed with as much care as he could a partially melted chunk of Ironhide's impossibly strong durable epidermal armor. He cast it aside and reached for a patch gently placing it on the site, then pulling it off. He reached for cutters clipping the armor, folding it slightly. It molded to fit around the corner of Ironhide's chassis to cover the flickering spark as it lit the night through the burned charred spot on the edge of his spark chamber.

His servos, his trembling servos worked feverishly as the hole grew smaller, then it fit. He transformed a digit, welding the patch into place, the medical metallic plate melting like butter under the torch. He reached into the kit pulling a monitoring device and began to program it, his eyes flickering between the device and the silent face of the only mech he ever loved with all his spark, with all his processor and all his days and nights through the eons of their youth, young adulthood and maturity. He held Ironhide's life in his trembling servos and he worked feverishly.

He placed the device in the center of Ironhide's chassis punching in the code that would maintain a force field around that part of his body. It was a critical care device and he had used it before saving some and not others. Each loss was terrible but this one, if it were a loss would claim him too, taking him away from the numbing terrifying idea of life alone. His servos trembled as he punched the last configuration into the small device. It sputtered, the snow falling upon it. He cried out, cursing and wiped the snow away, blowing on it to warm it up. Then it hummed, the sparkle of the field igniting, then disappearing as it kicked into life.

He sat and counted, the data on the device working through the routine that allowed it to formulate the size of the mech's spark chamber, the quality of the spark under assault and the intensity of protection it should generate to secure the structural integrity of the spark chamber itself. When it reached 80%, the minimum for transport, they could leave.

42%.

48%.

Coolant pooled in Ratchet's optics, the snow blinding him as he held his servos over the device. Ironhide was disappearing under a thin blanket of white as the snow began to fall harder. So did the others, his comrades-in-arms, his fellow Cybertronians, the Autobots that he had thrown in with as a much younger mech, those that he loved even now as the wretchedness of his situation ate at his processor. "Please, Primus. Come on, come on," he whispered watching his servos, watching the device slowly click upward, the energy field taking care and time as it slowly, carefully generated protection for Ironhide's endangered spark.

67%.

73%.

His servos trembled and the snow piled up, whiting them out as he protected the box.

77%.

78%.

80%.

He let loose a sob and looked up at Prime, himself stricken and silent, covered with a blanket of snow. "We can take him now. We have to get him to base. We can't wait, Optimus! Help me! Help me!" Ratchet cried, reaching out a servo to Prime in his agony. "Help me! We have to hurry!"

Prime gently lay Ironhide's helm down and rose barking orders. A stretcher was pulled from subspace, the bots lifted Ironhide onto it with an agonized Ratchet watching and directing. Then they turned, not daring to put him in a vehicle and began to make the three block trek to the field where Silverbolt waited for them, the word going ahead to Diego that a critical spark injury was incoming.

They made it to the great jet and loaded Ironhide carefully, his silent figure lying along the same side of the plane as Hound's. Cosmos took the soldiers and pulled up and away. Will Lennox reassured Prime that he would stay and take care of the scene. The rest boarded and Silverbolt lifted off, their way to Diego covered by the attentive enraged Aerialbots.

It was silent but for Ratchet whispering to Ironhide, telling him in their own language that he was going to make it. First Aid sitting beside Hound watched with a stricken expression as they wend their way back to base.

When they arrived the entire Autobot contingent not on duty was there to greet them, a silent mass of comrades gathering to see if they could help. Silverbolt lowered his jump door and the stretchers were moved out, Ironhide first. Ratchet had hold of one corner, the twins and Springer the others. He stumbled on the ramp and they paused waiting for him. Then Prowl took his arm and pulled him away as Red Alert took hold of the stretcher. Turning, moving carefully they walked to the hangar complex, the mechs parting to let them pass, then following behind.

First Aid made it to Medbay first and turned at the door. "I need volunteers!"

The sound of heavy footfalls could be heard as mechs came from all over and formed a line to donate energon. As they stood, the stretcher bearing Ironhide carried by grim-faced friends and comrades their Prime included passed by and entered the medbay followed by a silent Prowl holding Ratchet's arm. They passed and disappeared leaving the silent line behind.

=0=At the Colorado border, some time later

A truck drove up pausing beside the wash. For a moment there was no sound, then a transformation occurred. Shining his headlights downward, Springer saw the broken slowly reviving chassis of a yellow mini-con. He walked down and knelt beside Bumblebee. Patting the youngling's shoulder, he spoke gently. "Bee, Prime sent me. Cosmos will be here soon. We'll get you out of here shortly. Hang on."

Bumblebee lay back subspacing his weapons and relaxed, glad to see a friendly. He had lain in the ditch, his repair systems working slowly as he scanned with one broken optics and a shattered leg and arm for the menacing figure of Barricade. He closed his good optic and fell into a light painful recharge.

=0=

=0=

 

The Diego Diaries: "Float like a bait car, sting like a Bumblebee."

 

=0=Diego Garcia, Medbay

He leaned on the cart staring at the array of tools on the tray before him. The lights were muted but for the ones directly over Ironhide. He lay on the med berth silently, his wounds mocking Ratchet. The medico was gearing up going over the procedure in his processor as he would perform it in a breem. It just needed his steady servos and uninterrupted attention.

The triage had been done, numerous pieces of dermal armor were removed, taken to Wheeljack's lab and placed in a special solution in preparation for being smelted and reformed. The materials that formed Ironhide's armor were rare and specific, not found on Earth, harder than just about any material used by Cybertronians and therefore recycling was necessary to bring the front liner back to peak form.

The patches that covered the lesser wounds of were medical plating, temporary grafts for now. Ironhide's armor was so strong it was nearly impervious to weapon's fire. It would take a strafing by a Seeker, heavy weapons fire landing at point blank to do to him what this had done. The shock that Ironhide had been this wounded in the chassis, his most impermeable point had shattered Ratchet for a moment.

Now he needed to shake that off, gather his wits and skill to begin to piece the big oaf back together. He glanced at Ironhide, an expression of almost terrible fondness forming on his face. He paused then turned, leaning over to kiss him gently, tracing with a digit his own name and the words of love engraved on Ironhide's helm. "Hang on, my only one," he whispered in their language. "You will be mine again."

Then he turned and began. The spark wound would take time so he began to place better grafts than the field patches on the wounds that had been made when the plasma charge had hit Ironhide's armor. It had landed against its nearly impenetrable surface and splattering under impact caused burns over a wide area. He formed, cut, bent and shaped silver high density dermal medical plating, welding it onto the missing places where black armor had once been. Replacements would be smelted and reformed, further surgery for their replacement minor. Nothing he was doing now was life threatening. When that was finished he paused, turning to face the silent figure of Prowl.

He stood behind Ratchet watching silently, an energon cube in his hand. He held it out to Ratchet silently imploring him to take it. Ratchet wavered and then took it, downing it like a cube of high grade. "Thank you, Prowl."

"You are welcome," Prowl said, his worried optics saying what his mouth couldn't. "Optimus is at a follow up meeting in the N.E.S.T. Headquarters. He asked if there was anything you needed. He asked how it was going. We **all** are worried for Ironhide. **And** you," he added taking the empty cube from Ratchet.

"Tell him that the little stuff went well. I'm going to repair the spark chamber now," Ratchet said rubbing his face tiredly. "When that's done, then we just have to monitor him as his internal repair assemblies will take over. I will be keeping him on a spark monitor until he reaches 98% or better on his own. His baseline for all his systems runs at 98%. I won't let him out of here at less."

"I will tell Optimus," Prowl said quietly, his optics moving from Ratchet to Ironhide and back again.

"I'm happy for you, Prowl," Ratchet said glancing at Ironhide. "You and Prime are a good match and it took you both long enough."

Prowl smiled slightly. "Well, we had friends."

Ratchet nodded looking at Prowl with coolant pooling in his optics. "That's all we have don't we, friends. What else matters?"

Prowl nodded, then paused turning back to Ratchet. He reached out and hugged the medic, relief filling him as Ratchet hugged him back. They stood together holding each other, then Prowl stepped back swallowing tears. "I will tell Optimus."

Ratchet nodded.

"You will **please** tell us what you need, Ratchet. We are **with** you," Prowl said nodding helplessly.

Ratchet nodded back wiping his eyes. "I know, Prowl. Thank you."

Prowl nodded, an emotional expression on his face then he turned walking out of the medbay. Sitting nearby waiting for his bond mate to come out of medically induced stasis, Trailbreaker watched silently feeling as an intruder on a private moment. He turned in his seat looking down at Hound squeezing his servo. /… what a terrible welcome home, Hound, this is .../

=0=At the Sickbay, N.E.S.T. HQ, Diego Garcia

Robert Epps sat on the edge of the bed, a corpsman holding a cup and a glass of water. He was being released and all he had to do was take pain medication for a few days. He had been lucky. Hound had taken the blast and the blows. Epps had felt the interior of Hound's alt mode grip him, holding him as delicately as he could to cushion the blows that were coming.

It had saved his life. He owed his life to Hound.

As it was, he was determined to go to the Autobot medbay to find out what had happened to Hound. He had heard scuttlebutt that Ironhide had taken a hit and he wanted to find out about that too. Apparently, the Autobots were being very tight lipped about the injuries of their members, not telling anyone anything beyond that they were in Medbay. He took his medication, rising stiffly. Thanking everyone who had cared for him, signing out at the desk, he turned and limped out the door determined to make the long walk across base to the Autobot HQ. They might not tell anyone else what was what, but they would tell him. He was family.

=0=On the tarmac at the same time

A stretcher came down the ramp of Cosmos' loading bay borne by mechs, followed by Springer. Laying on the stretcher, his battered figure recognizable anyway was Bumblebee. He had been found hours earlier lying in a ditch wounded and battered, energon levels low and his processor feeling the effects of it.

Springer was sent. 'One Riot, One Wrecker' was their motto. He had found Bumblebee and commed Cosmos who was waiting in orbit scanning the countryside directing Springer to the dry wash gully where Bee was laying. A short ride to Garcia and all the prodigals were safely home.

He was carried to the hangar, people greeting him with relief and comedy, Bee giving it back in equal measure. He didn't know about Ironhide, he didn't know the mechs he idolized more than any other -Prowl and Prime- were together, he didn't know anything more than he had failed his mission to get to Colorado and help Arcee do preliminary scouting for the criminals and the Cons who were seeking alliances.

He lay back in painful weariness feeling like chump change as they carried him down to Medbay and help.

=0=Ratchet and Ironhide

The welding tool worked within and without protective med fields and so Ratchet was able to carefully, slowly slice away parts of the spark chamber that had been irretrievably damaged in the attack. As he was doing so, Wheeljack was in his lab using the aid of Perceptor to make an exact match for the corner that could be introduced and attached to the chamber that was there already.

It was decided that replacing the entire chamber, removing Ironhide's spark as a consequence was too fraught with complicated possibilities on a planet with few of the raw materials they used to make the things they really needed, especially spark chambers.

Ratchet wanted the easiest best next solution so they had studied it carefully. Perceptor would do the math, Wheeljack would craft the replacement part and Ratchet would install it. Between them there was no one in the history of Cybertron that could match them for skill and creativity. Ironhide was in the best hands possible.

=0=On the tarmac

The big plane arrived and dropped its bay doors. Black SUV's rolled out, three of them and they were filled with men, big men wearing flack jackets and dark glasses. They rolled toward the soldier's HQ and stopped before the Administrative Building. A man exited dressed in suit and jacket, a briefcase in his hand. He walked into the building leaving the others. Some got out standing around the vehicles and others sat both inside and halfway out, staring around themselves getting a feel for the place.

On the other side of the tarmac a flotilla of cars were parked in the sunlight absorbing energy and recharging their solar batteries and solar powered equipment. The men sat and looked at them pointing to some and talking together. The Autobots on the other hand gave them no attention at all.

=0=Ratchet, Wheeljack and Perceptor

They stood together reviewing the delicately designed and microscopically exact device as it rotated on a monitor over the med berth that Ironhide lay upon. They talked about its configuration, its chemical content, its exacting specifications and how it would fit when inserted. For nearly a breem they discussed it then Ratchet nodded, satisfied. "He is such a slagger getting pounded on all the time. If this is micro-welded in place, I want the bond to be permanent, as if it had never happened."

"That is why it took a bit of time to make the chemical composition just so. This is going to bond and the bond will be even stronger than the rest of the chamber," Perceptor said. "We know he falls a lot."

Ratchet smiled considering the unintended comedy of that remark. Then he realized it was the first time he had smiled in a long while. "Thank you, Perceptor. Thank you, Wheeljack. I appreciate your talent and your effort."

They smiled and nodded looking at the larger hole in Ironhide's chamber. Ratchet had carved off micro bits, some smaller than a filament in an optic disk, traditionally one of the smallest and hardest parts to replace or repair. They stepped back and watched as Ratchet roughed the edges of the hole and then with a delicacy that one would not attach to the gruff medico he tested the fit by slowly lowering it into the hole. It was snug, as snug as the parts once were that he had chipped out.

Turning and grinning at Perceptor and Wheeljack who were silently ecstatic, he reached for his micro welder and began the terrifically slow and incredibly difficult task of making an impermeable seal around the soul of the only mech he would ever love in this or any other lifetime.

=0=Inside the Administrative Building

The new guy, newly arrived from some place he didn't elaborate on, with men and SUV's to command walked into the building, asked to see the CO, flipping a State Department badge. The Officer of the Day nodded and rose walking through corridors of orderly chaos and out the back door. Crossing the tarmac, troops of soldiers jogging in formation, working on vehicles or lounging here and there, they reached a big hangar and entered walking past a mass of computers, screens, miles of cable and rows of personnel manning the information nexus of the N.E.S.T. Command hub.

As they passed the last row of monitors and sensors he saw it at last. Or at least, that is the word that entered his mind. It. Looking up, his mouth hanging open, he stared at the back of Optimus Prime, Autobot Commander. The alien was in conference with someone on a screen that was one of many mounted on a tall structure that was reached he presumed by the ladders that faced each end of the platform on which the screens and personnel sat working. Soldiers were on the platform and as he reached the steps he saw the practicality of the structure. It made it possible to have a conversation with someone nearly thirty feet tall.

Climbing upward, he paused at the top aware that no one was paying any attention to him. Optimus had been aware of him when he drove off the plane with his flotilla of mechs and vehicles. No one else paid attention and so he didn't bring it up. Right now he was interested in what General Morshower had to say about Denver.

"And it was clear that they were held up by the storm. We have traced the tunnel that Scorponok made and it would appear that it disappears about fifty miles south of Denver."

"Scorponok has the capacity to go very, very deep," Optimus said nodding.

"Excuse me."

Morshower and Prime paused turning to look at the figure standing at the end of the platform. The figure walked forward and paused nodding to Morshower and turned again, looking with a trace of awe at the impressive figure of the oldest living being he would ever see in his life. Of course, he didn't know that. He just knew that he was here to investigate and observe, chart, graph and otherwise probe the aliens in their midst for his boss. That he wouldn't tell them that or who he worked for was beside the point.

"I am Jason Daniels," he said briskly. "I am here to be the civilian liaison for the United States government and the State Department."

Morshower sighed and sat back trading looks with Prime. Once again, he had not gotten the memo. And from the look on Prime's face neither did he.

=0=

 

The Diego Diaries: "May all your kevlar dreams come true." 

=0=Medbay

By the time Bumblebee was brought into Medbay Ratchet had closed the hole in Ironhide's spark chamber. The stasis field still was in place as a protective measure but only just so. Ratchet exhausted mentally and emotionally had finished, tossing the welding tool onto the instrument cart. First Aid who had silently watched the procedure patted Ratchet. "That was impressive, Ratchet."

Ratchet smiled faintly. "That was my pinnacle, First Aid. It's all downhill from here."

First Aid smiled and turned, the racket from the hallway becoming louder. A stretcher borne by four mechs entered, a painfully bent and mangled Bumblebee stretched out upon it. Springer came along behind and helped them move the little mini-con onto the med bed by the door where First Aid pointed.

"What the frag happened to you, Bumblebee?" Ratchet asked turning to walk to the small Autobot. "You're in pain?"

Bee nodded lying back suddenly exhausted. Ratchet watched the monitors as First Aid took his stats. "You're low," Ratchet said shaking his head. "You will need a couple of transfusions right away." He glanced at Springer who had walked over and was looking at Ironhide. "Hi, Springer."

"Ratchet." Springer turned regarding Ratchet quietly. "You look like slag, Ratchet. You really didn't expect that this old fragger was going anywhere did you?"

"He almost did," Ratchet said quietly turning to walk toward the Wrecker. "What happened to Bee?"

Springer shook his helm gathering the few things Bumblebee could tell him in his thoughts. "He was chased for about five hundred miles before careening off the road. Barricade managed to wound him and the energon loss was his downfall. He might have made it to Denver otherwise. But the strangest part was, he stood over Bee and the youngling figured it was up. Then he said, 'Starscream wanted you to know he ordered this, that he wants you broken in half and for you to tell Prime.' Then he turned and left."

"What?" Ratchet asked shaking his helm. His processor hurt and he was as tired as he had felt during the height of the war on Cybertron. "Barricade is about as lenient with his potential victims as I am with dumb afts. What does that mean and what the slag has Starscream got crammed sideways in his exhaust vents now?"

Springer shook his helm, a broad smile on his lips. "Don't know, Ratch. Screamer needs a thorough beating."

"I hope you can deliver it. Soon," Ratchet said turning to look at the little mini-con as First Aid began the initial repairs of his battered frame. "The last thing we need is obtuse devious slag from that jack aft."

Springer grinned and nodded chuckling. "I gotta go. Some new mechs have come with SUV's and a new human wrangler. Prime wants me to keep an eye on them until we figure out what they want. Bringing hired guns with a bureaucrat doesn't sound right to him."

"Or me," Ratchet agreed considering Autobot Public Enemy #1, Theodore Galloway.

Springer nodded pausing by Bumblebee, then left. Ratchet walked to Bee and looked down resting his hands on his hip assemblies. "You look like you are the bug this time, Bee. No pun intended."

Bee grinned. "You should see the other mech."

Ratchet snorted, shaking his head. "You could get paddled for telling whoppers but I think you might just like it if I did."

Bee grinned and looked across the room gazing once to the revived and recovering Hound and the offline and repairing Ironhide. "What happened?" he asked innocently.

=0=Ops Center, later

Optimus Prime walked into Ops Center nodding to the mechs on duty as he made his way to Teletraan III where Prowl was standing. He considered how beautiful Prowl was and the indefinable thing that came to him each time he looked at the mech. The stark clean lines of his paint scheme, black and white and the startlingly beautiful red of his chevron, that was part of it. The door wings moving to absorb data or to reflect his mood, that was also part of it. The competence, the calm dignity, the elegance of his form all called to him whenever he saw his lover. Then Prowl turned and looked at him, the warmth of his blue optics reaching into Prime's spark. He paused, smiling. That was it he thought, the thing that made him feel like a youngling, like a mech that could overcome anything put before him. Those blue optics and that look, that incredible look.

"How was the meeting, sir?" Prowl asked moving toward Prime, stopping to stare up at the eight feet of height difference between them. Prime looked down, the blue optics reaching into his spark and capturing him once more in their gentle power.

"We have a new problem," he said taking Prowl's arm and steering him toward a corner of the room. He turned and looked at Prowl, at the expectant slightly frowning face looking back at him. "A new group are here and they are staying in the transient officer's barracks at the other end of the base. They're hired guns, a firm called Intel-Martin is running them. They are the group that's involved in contract security in the Middle East and their reputation as killers, abusers and hot head drunks isn't good. We have to investigate them and get plans in line if they become a problem."

Prowl nodded. "I will work on it. I'll have Jazz research them. Do we have a list of the individuals?"

"I suppose that Jazz can get it and not leave a trace," Prime suggested, smiling. Prowl smiled back and Prime felt his spark squeeze.

"I will see to it myself," Prowl said glancing at Jazz who was lounging in his chair trading quips with Mirage as he worked his shift. "I wonder … do you have anything for Mirage to do? After all, the humans say 'all is fair in love and war'."

Prime smiled, his optics shining with pleasure. "You read my mind."

Prowl smiled, the genuine feeling of love on Prime's face almost overtaking. He nodded. "Consider this my problem and not yours, Optimus."

Prime quashed a desire to hug Prowl, to kiss him and thank him for all that he did consciously and unconsciously to make Prime happy. He nodded, smiling. "I have a conference call to the F.B.I. in Denver."

"All right," Prowl said as reluctant to part as Prime. They stood together then Prime nodded turning slowly to walk off the command deck, a lighter step in his peds than usual. Prowl watched him until he left then he turned, thinking through about a dozen and a half possible scenarios for the new problem and a set of objectives for both Mirage and Jazz to work on for the next few orns. Turning with a lighter step in his own peds, he walked to Jazz and Mirage and began.

=0=At the Transient Officer's Barracks

They moved in, nine security personnel and a bureaucrat. Once quarters were established, they turned and walked together, self-identifying matching black vests, ubiquitous sunglasses and pistols strapped to hips toward the mess hall nearby. Entering the building, they bumped past Niall Graham, muscling their way inside. Niall pushed against the doorjamb glared back as they entered moving toward the food line and lunch. He stared at them and turned stepping away to cross the tarmac to the offices that were theirs, the command team for the Autobot-N.E.S.T Strike Force. Entering, he spotted Lennox and signaled for him to come into Epp's office where the Sargent was working on paperwork, infernal paperwork.

Will popped in moving to sit in the dispersal range of the desk fan. "What's up, Niall?" He paused. "Not another Autobot thing...?"

"No," Niall said frowning. "It's worse. I just saw a team of hired slime from Intel-Martin elbow their way into the mess hall."

The two Americans sitting and listening looked at each other and without a beat spoke together: "Oh shit."

=0=On the tarmac an orn later

Bluestreak was walking to the firing range, his limp nearly gone. It was very hot and most of the humans were not out and about, preferring early morning or later evening. He walked thinking about Sunstreaker and their evening with Sides, Hound and Trailbreaker. It would be a welcoming party for the big mech who had made it finally to Earth to the delirious, literally, delight of Hound.

The activity would be one of the first parties they had actually planned, not counting the spontaneous ones that burst into flames whenever someone provided the spark of an arrival or a besting of some human of dubious quality. Fire pits at the ocean side were popular and they were already collecting drift wood for the evening since Hound would be out of Medbay and everyone would be there he thought in his continuous stream of consciousness, perhaps even Prowl and Prime and maybe even Ratchet would come for a while-

"Hey!"

A voice stopped the flow of words through his processor as Bluestreak stopped to stare around himself. Then he looked down and noticed new organics. They were lounging on deck chairs, some of them stripped down to their skivvies, all of them wearing dark glasses.

"I said 'hey'!" a human male said sitting forward then standing. He stared at Bluestreak then looked at the others laughing as he said something softly.

Bluestreak instantly didn't like them and so he turned back moving forward, ignoring the little insect voices of the tiny figures sitting on their patio. Their barracks was on the way to the firing range and he was determined not to have a bad time with organics. Prowl wanted it so and so did Prime. He wasn't going to be the one who had The Incident that they were warned against, especially with the almost train wreck of Sunstreaker and Johnson/Hedges, a pair that were preparing to cause trouble back in their home land or so he thought he had heard in the rec room one morning.

The insect voices continued but Bluestreak didn't listen. He walked onward finding the firing range empty as he believed it would be. Unsubbing his rifle, checking every aspect of it, he took his stance and began to sight the scope on a number of different things. Behind him, a roaring noise broke his concentration and he turned looking down.

An organic, the one who called to him was sitting on a small off road machine the organics called a four wheeler. He considered the tiny machine and its lack of sentience. Then he looked at the human and two others sitting on the back of it, cans of something in their hands. He decided that he wouldn't let them know he understood their languages. Being an inoffensive individual, he didn't understand the aggression of stupid people and so he decided to listen and maybe understand if he had violated even obliviously some sort of taboo to invite this attention.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Blue continued working with his scope ignoring the humans below. The sun was hot and he felt good, the energy absorption meters in his processor moving to near capacity from the sunlight his receptors were collecting. His limbs were healed and the pains were mostly a memory. The only aches he had were the welcomed kind from his exertions with Sunstreaker the night before. He smiled as he considered the big Lambo who had stuck up for him so fiercely at the enlisted man's barracks. He knew that Sunny loved him though it was hard for him to say. But he showed it all the time with touches, whispers and protection. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a reason for Sunny's anger and so he considered leaving.

"Hey, **robot**! I'm **talking** to you!" the man persisted. "Look down here and talk to me!"

Bluestreak looked down, his dislike clear on his face. "I'm shooting. Go away," he said as he turned back to fire.

The human stepped off the four wheeler and walked to the firing line looking up at Bluestreak. Then he pulled his pistol and pointed it up at the Autobot. Bluestreak seeing the pistol paused, looking down at the man holding the gun. He glanced at the others and they were sitting silently watching intently at the scene. Then one of them thought better, perhaps noticing the size of Bluestreak's rifle. "Todd. Let's go."

'Todd' turned and looked at them smirking. "You aren't afraid of a little old robot are you?" he asked.

"That isn't a little robot," the man countered. "Come on. Let's go get some beer."

Todd looked at them then back at Bluestreak. He pointed the gun back up looking as if he were preparing a shot. Bluestreak moving on instinct turned and focused his rifle on the human. The human had the grace to freeze, the size of the bore was bigger than his head. He raised his gun slowly, his demeanor shifting to calmness and sobriety. "Hey … I am just joking … can't you take a joke?" he asked.

Bluestreak shocked by the human's move looked down his sight at the face of Todd. "No," he said quietly, moving away from the men, his rifle on them, his back never turned and when he had backed away enough he turned and walked away.

The men relaxing at last looked at each other. "Great job, Todd, you ass hat."

"Blow me, Steve," Todd said moving to sit back on the four wheeler. "So that robot can't take a joke. We'll see," he said gunning the vehicle. They rode off in a haze of dust for the Transient Officer's Quarters and a beer driven afternoon of poker and bullshit.

=0=Medbay, late that night

Ratchet sat on a chair next to Ironhide, the big mech's arm a pillow for the medic's head as he kept vigil. He went to their quarters but it was curiously devoid of warmth and personality. Coming back, nodding to the night medic, he pulled up a chair and sat, memories of their life together coming one after another to his processor. The endless fun, the suffering and the separations, it all came. Ratchet was surprised thinking back over things at the lack of rancor they had together in a life spanning so many vorns.

They were compatible to a degree he hadn't realized until now. They were friends, lovers and comrades. They were Autobots, soldiers and he was a diplomat. Each of them were formidable alone but together they never were defeated. It had almost happened now but Ironhide had stuck around, almost as if afraid to leave Ratchet behind. At least that is what Ratchet settled upon.

Now all it took was the stabilization of Ironhide's spark and the meter was already at 54%. Though that number was not the 98% Ratchet needed, it was a good one. For this number was Ironhide doing the work, not the machine. All they had to do was wait and Ironhide would be back where he belonged, with the Autobots, with Prime and with his 'bestest old yellow aft mech in the whole fraggin' galaxy'.

His Ratchet.

He shuttered his optics and rested, his sensors focused on the big silent mech beside him.

 

=0=

 

The Diego Diaries: "Hey." 

 

=0=Medbay, before first shift

Ratchet felt a movement and an alert timer in his processor went off pulling him from an uncomfortable recharge almost faster than his hardware would allow. He sat up immediately, swatting at his face as if shooing flies. Then he stood staring around frightened before turning to glance down at Ironhide. Every part of his body was stiff and sore, his helm ached and he was exhausted. But he had felt a movement.

Actually, that wasn't true.

The internal alert timer he set was synced with the equipment monitoring Ironhide and the moment the big mech reached 85% or above on the spark monitor, a series of alarms were tripped, messages sent, wires crossed, hot air balloons launched and the 'bestest yellow-aft mech in the entire fraggin' galaxy' was awake (relatively), alert (debatably) and focused entirely on the mech lying on the berth. Ratchet watched and waited, the movement registered prior was internal from Ironhide rather than external but it would come. Ratchet knew from a lifetime of work that if they got this far they stayed.

Then. It. Happened.

"Hey."

Ratchet stood staring, his wretchedness falling away as that single syllable delivered in a mud colored voice retrieved his spark from the Pit where it had been circling at high speed for joors. He stepped forward quietly, as if to make a sound would shatter his delicate tenuous grasp of reality and leaned down staring intently. Ironhide had moved and he spoke. A servo moved, an arm flexed and Ratchet took Ironhide's hand gripping it gently as he turned to gaze into his optics. "Hey," Ratchet replied smiling slightly. "You planning on recharging all day?"

"Most likely," Ironhide said tiredly.

"Poor example of a Chaos Bringer for the younglings."

He grinned slightly, his optics drooping from fatigue. "I saw you."

"You did?" Ratchet asked, content to talk to him about anything including the odd disjointed remark.

"I saw you welding the chamber back together," he whispered.

Ratchet stared at him considering his remarks and a lifetime of hearing such things a time or two from mechs brought back from the edge of no return. "What did you see?" Ratchet said kissing Ironhide's servo.

"I saw you suffer," Ironhide said. "I was standing beside you the whole time." With that, he off-lined his optics and slipped back into recharge again. Ratchet checked the dials, 92% already on the monitor. He considered Ironhide and his remarks, his quiet expression in recharge then he gently lay the big mech's arm down. Leaning down, kissing him gently on the lips he turned and walked slowly to his office. He shut the door, sat down wearily in his chair, folded his arms and wept.

=0=At the offices of the Autobot-N.E.S.T Strike Force

Will Lennox got off the phone from friends he knew in the armies of other countries who had served in areas that Intel-Martin had worked, a couple who were in the State Department and a guy he knew in Pittsburgh who could get you anything/anyone/anywhere for the right price. All of them agreed.

They were fucked.

He sat back and threw a pencil on his desk putting his feet up as he considered their problem. Niall had the same luck calling the UK and a friend he had in the Foreign Legion. Epps having contacts in the private army business having received recruiting offers searched and found out that the story they were piecing together probably spelled one thing: There was going to be The Incident they all dreaded because 1.) they had no control over these guys, 2) these guys were overpaid losers and sometimes criminals 3) they had ZERO respect for the regular military and 4) they were here for a reason and no one could figure it out.

Niall sighed and sat back flexing his shoulder. "I want to know what a bureaucrat needs with nine, count them nine armed men. It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe they feel they need to arm after Sunstreaker," Epps said. "I heard somewhere that Johnson and Hedges are making waves. Appears they were involved or at least their families were with militias."

"Homegrown fat boys with guns and beat up pickup trucks?" Will asked grinning. "Compare our rides with their shit, weekend warriors. 'Don't tread on me' bullshitters." He sighed leaning forward. "We need to bring this up with Optimus at the weekly. And we need to keep our eyes peeled. They might trigger a shooting."

"The pop guns I've seen won't hurt the Autobots but the hardware the bots have? We won't find a stain if they provoke a shooting and it will be provoked. All these years with no incidents and if one happens now, it's provoked. Are we all in agreement?" Epps asked, his pointed look passing from one to the other. They grinned.

"Hell yeah! Hoo-ah," Lennox said with a grin.

"What he said," Niall replied with a chuckle.

=0=Bluestreak and Sunstreaker

Sunstreaker skated down the trail to the beach, Bluestreak's servo in his hand, the youngling gunner following quickly. The bonfire they were lighting to celebrate the return to the fold of Trailbreaker was going to be a blowout. Wheeljack's stash had been 'mysteriously' appropriated and even though they only dared to take about four bottles it would be a nice buzz for one and all. Unless everyone came, then some would do without, the 'freeloading slaggers'.

"But **you took** the bottles. How can someone else drinking them be freeloading when you're a thief?" Bluestreak asked grinning at Sunny. Sunny grinned back glancing over his shoulder as he felt the bottles tinkling against each other in his hold/carrier space. "Shhh," he said pausing to kiss Bluestreak hard on the lips. They turned and continued onward moving toward the noise of conversation and Blaster's musical contribution as the sun began to descend into the sea beyond.

=0=At the Transient Officer's Barracks

They sat on the patio enjoying the cooler temperature as they talked while drinking. Videos and games aside, there was little else for men such as themselves to do in an island base such as Diego Garcia. Todd sitting with his feet up on a deck chair knocked back his third beer since dinner. "What the hell are they doing out there?"

Steve himself eating a sandwich shrugged. "Who cares? They're robots. They could be building Buicks for all I care."

Todd snorted and two others, Laurence and Tony laughed. They had all been drinking, poker long since past and they were bored. They all knew they would be but the pay was good and the atmosphere was currently devoid of warring factions. Then again the night was young Todd thought with a snort. He rose and tossed his empty beer can into the trashcan nearby. Strapping on his pistol, putting on his Intel-Martin baseball cap, he moved toward the four wheeler at the edge of the lawn.

"Where you going?" Steve asked, his sandwich halfway to his mouth.

"To take a piss!" Todd said revving the machine and peeling out, gravel flying around him as he did.

Steve watched him go with a frown. He was driving toward the noise and music on the beach and he shook his head in disgust. "You could take a piss right here, you dumb ass. We have trees enough for everyone." He sighed and continued his sandwich.

=0=Medbay

Ratchet lay on a med berth deep in recharge. He had come together in his office, walking out and going to the wash racks. Standing under the steady stream of warm water he had felt himself pulling together, a hunger in his tanks felt for the first time since Denver. He had washed, energized and walked back to the medbay as tired as before but without the dread and doom that had buried itself deeply in his spark.

Prowl and Prime were there talking softly to Ironhide who was assuring them both that he would be on his peds in no time. Prime ecstatic and relieved held Ironhide's servo smiling at the steady patter of slag Ironhide was dishing. They talked together, four old friends of many a campaign then Prime and Prowl left leaving Ratchet and Ironhide alone in the dimmed lights of the medbay.

=0=On the way to the beach

Todd rode the four wheeler across the tarmac avoiding the runways where the big planes were parked. For all he knew they could all be robots and some of them were, recharging outside the hangars that were theirs, enjoying the warm air and the beautiful sky overhead. He pushed onward heading toward the light of a fire, sparks flying upward and the sound of laughter and talk, electronic noise to him.

Sitting on the sand, Hound leaning against his shoulder, a bottle in his servo, Trailbreaker laughed at a pantomime that Sideswipe was doing of Ironhide and a mission they had gone on the year before. He had enjoyed himself, cutting a Decepticon in half with his gigantic swords. Sunstreaker jealous of the fight he had not been there to partake in hooted at his brother, Bluestreak sitting behind him with his arms around Sunny's shoulders, laughing.

The bottles were passed and the jokes flowed, the Milky Way overhead moving slowing across the softly darkened sky. And toward that happiness, that gathering of a wounded tribe together in a small out-of-the-way place in a very big universe, a four wheeler was headed. That four wheeler was driven by a man who had had opportunity all his life, from good schools to good jobs. He had never applied himself at anything, taking whatever he was handed by his older brother who was currently an executive in Intel-Martin.

He had never been hungry and alone, pinned down in a battle against overwhelming odds and truly ruthless adversaries that not only wanted to kill you, but obliterate every trace that you ever existed. He had never seen his country fall to enemies, his people killed and scattered. He had never been deprived and as a consequence he had no idea of the beings he was rushing toward gun at hip, attitude flying high.

He had never been on the other side of the looking-glass watching others plunder his home and his culture, tearing apart everything that mattered and counted. He was a overpaid, overindulged dilettante from an over indulged culture and country, someone who had never had to face himself and see where the bullshit ended and the truth began.

But he was going to find out now.

=0=Prime and Prowl

They lay together moving slowly, feeling the intensity of sensation that a mere touch could bring. Prime cognizant of his size and strength was gentle, gentler than anyone Prowl had ever known. Prowl smaller and lighter lay in Prime's arms, his hands and lips touching and tasting, feeling in the body of his lover more delight that he could have imagined existed in the blighted universe where his people existed. Prime was their leader, their inspiration and hope. He was Prowl's and he was overwhelmed at the idea of his luxury, of the idea of making love to the bearer of the Creation Matrix of their people, a mech he had loved so long that the beginning of his longing could no longer be remembered.

"Optimus," he whispered.

Prime paused looking up from Prowl's neck resting his optics on Prowl's face, his softly glowing optics. "Yes," he whispered unwilling to allow anything more modulated to pierce the perfection of the moment.

"I want to see it," Prowl said. "I want to see the Matrix."

Prime smiled and lay back rolling Prowl upward. Prowl kissed Prime's chest, tracing a digit along the pane of his windshield, then the metal parted folding back until a bright light streamed upward and out. A pure white, a white unlike anything he had ever seen suffused the room and Prowl watched it, his face illuminated gently by it. He looked at Optimus with an expression of utter love and with hesitation he reached inside to touch it. It tingled, the electric significance of it sparkling across his grid. Then he heard it, a soft whisper in his audios. "Merge with me."

Prowl glanced up, surprise on his face. Optimus hopeful and filled with a sense of rightness looked at Prowl unwaveringly. Prowl overcome for a moment nodded slightly, his optics never leaving Prime's.

Then Prime rolled over staring down at Prowl with a sense of peace in his spark that he had not felt in eons of time and struggle. Leaning in with a soft kiss,they did it. Two sparks became one at last.

=0=Nearing the beach party

He stopped his engine, shutting off the machine. Stepping off his gun in his hand, he crept forward moving toward the light and dancing.

Dancing robots.

Fuck, he thought as he spied two or three couples swaying to a slow tune. Bending low, he crept closer and just as he was about to reach the safety of trees a huge hand gripped his body and yanked him off of his feet.

He didn't even have time to scream.

=0=

 

The Diego Diaries: "What do you know, Joe?" 

 

=0=On a beach in the middle of the Indian Ocean

"What do ya think?"

"I think you need to pass that bottle."

(Pass. Swig. Pass back.)

"Did that clear the glitch? I was asking your opinion."

"You were. You're good that way."

Springer smirked as he passed the bottle back to Kup, the oldest mech since before the time of Unicron taking it with gusto. He wiped the lip and took a deep swig. He grimaced then grinned, proffering it to the squirming organic that was currently residing underneath his ped. "Want some, insect?"

Springer snorted gazing at the organic who was pinned, pale and panicked. Humans and their words. He looked at Kup, at the toughest, oldest and most muley mech he had ever met. "You know, you might be crushing him. He may be an insect but I don't think he has an exoskeleton."

Kup winked and glanced down. "Let's see where his skeleton is. Maybe you peel them like a … what do they call it? That yellow thing they like to eat ..."

"Banana?" Springer said sipping Wheeljack's rot gut again.

"Yeah, a banama," Kup said looking at Todd with his googly eyes and his battered old helm. "Peel 'em like a banama."

Springer snorted and leaned back, the sandy bank holding him gently as he watched the sky. "You know, its been a long time since I had fried food. Do you suppose this organic tastes good fried or should we spit him on a stick and give him to the younglings over there?" he asked nodding toward the party and the mechs having a good time oblivious to the fact that Springer and Kup were watching over them at Prime's request.

"I don't know. Boil him in oil. We can drink the oil and pick out the bad stuff," Kup said leaning back himself. "I personally prefer the oil."

"High grade," Springer said taking a swig. "I think Wheeljack did a good job with this batch. Maybe if we give him this insect he can use it as an additive, sort of like spice or something. Age it to a fine tang."

Kup snorted and smiled. "That might be good but I think Prime would have something to say about it. I guess this little hero needs to go in the brig for the night. I don't think I want to comm Prime about it."

"He did give us discretion. 'One Riot," Springer began.

**"ONE WRECKER! WRECK 'N RULE!"** Kup shouted waving the bottle in the air. He raised his leg and Springer pulled Todd away before Kup's heavy ped came back down. Todd hanging in Springer's grasp looked at the place he had been pressed into and sobered up completely. Without one robot saving him from the other, he would be goo.

"I'm going to can this one. You keep watch and I'll be right back," Springer said handing Kup the bottle. "Don't drink it all, old mech or I'll have to smack your old aft."

Kup snorted and smiled looking at the human hanging in Springer's servo like a rag doll. "Cheerio, insect," he said raising the bottle to his lips.

Springer smirked and chortled rising up to go. He walked back up the trail pausing before the four wheeler. Looking at it and at Todd, he reached out and put his ped down smashing it flat into the sand it was parked on. He twisted his ped making sure it was broken, then raised Todd up to eye level. "Get something straight, Todd. We know who and what you are and we're prepared. Don't ever try and bother our younglings or anyone else among our own kind again. I would hate to accidentally step on you. Getting slag off my peds would be a bad idea for me. I don't have to tell you how it would be for you would I?"

Todd pale as a sheet, swaying in the grasp of his worst nightmare nodded.

"Do you have a vocal processor or are you a slagger giving me a hard time?"

"What?" Todd asked paling even more.

"Speak, dog," he said bringing Todd closer still. His optics were hard and his voice edgy, deliberately so.

"I understand," Todd said shaking his head. "I understand you. I do."

Springer quashed a smirk then turned walking toward the hangar holding Todd like any other object that he used, down by his side grasped only tightly enough to keep from dropping him. He walked into the rec room in the big hangar, nodding to bemused mechs who were sitting around talking and playing games of chance. Jazz sitting with Mirage smiled. "What ya got there, Springer?"

"A little dumb aft. Wanted to bring a gun to the dance," Springer said holding up the handgun that Todd had brought in his other servo. "Cute, huh? If I were bonded I would make it into a necklace."

Jazz laughed aloud. "I'm not sure it would suit Optimus." They all guffawed, then Jazz reached over picking up the tiny gun turning it this way and that. He turned in his chair staring at the terrified human with his visor, optical visor glowing in the muted light of evening in the rec room. "You do know dontcha that these little things can't hurt our feelings let alone our hide, boy?"

Todd nodded as tears pooled in his eyes. "Yes sir."

"Ah, polite little thing isn't he," Mirage said, his contempt barely in check. "Brig perchance?"

"Yep," Springer said, a big grin on his face

"Come back and have a game with us," Mirage said. "The soldiers taught us a new one, 'Battleship'."

"Sounds great but I left Kup at the party with a bottle and he's on guard duty."

"Prime," Jazz mentioned.

Springer nodded chuckling. "That's why he is Prime. He can see the future and friends," Springer said holding the human up, enjoying his extreme discomfort. "The future is Todd."

They laughed together, then Springer continued onward walking to the second level where Red Alert sat watching monitors and manning the Brig during night shift. He jumped up delighted to have a prisoner to take care of so Springer left Todd in good hands. On the way back he was irritated and Jazz called out. "Springer! You look bothered."

Springer pausing looked at Jazz with disgust, shaking his servo. "Todd leaked."

Laughter followed him out of the rec room as Springer made his way back to guard duty and Kup.

=0=The next day

Epps came into Medbay, the daily visit to Ironhide a ritual he intended to keep until the big mech was on his peds once more. Looking around, content to see only one patient, he walked up and gazed at Ironhide. "Hey? Hide? You awake yet?"

A dark helm turned, an optic ticked open and a nod indicated that he was online once more. "Hey, Epps."

"Hey, yourself," Epps said grinning. "You scared everyone. You gotta duck faster, man. Mech."

Ironhide turned his head and looked at Epps considering the small soldier for whom he had huge regard. "Ducking is relative."

"Getting slagged is too," Epps replied climbing onto a small stool to stand closer to the big mech. He noted the device was gone on his chest, most of the cords as well and he was spotted with silver metallic plates over his wounds. "You look good with the bling but when are you getting your armor back? You have a style to uphold you know."

Ironhide grinned in spite of himself. "Wheeljack and Perceptor are smelting the old stuff and will remake the new."

"We gathered it all up when they moved you off the street. All of Ratchet's tools and all."

He turned his head and looked at Epps. "You will tell me what happened one of these orns. I want to know about Ratchet as well."

Epps nodded. "You'd be real proud of Ratchet, Hide."

"I am," he said turning to gaze at the ceiling. "What else do I need to know?"

"Hound got hit and is fine now. Had a party last night for Trailbreaker."

"He's back?" Ironhide asked turning to gaze at Epps.

"Yeah. Came the same day as the Aerialbots, the day of the mission."

"Good. Hound missed him. They're bonded."

"I didn't know that," Epps said nodding. "Good to know."

"I heard that a slagger got put in the brig last night when they tried to bring a gun to the youngling's party."

"Which slagger?" Epps asked hearing of it for the first time.

"Some slagger among the new humans," Ironhide said. "Ratchet knows more. He isn't telling. Go to the brig and find out. Come back and tell me. I hate not knowing. I am the security specialist after all."

"I thought you were the weapons specialist," Epps said smiling.

"I'm versatile. Can do a lot. Ask Ratchet." He grinned and looked at Epps. "Come back and tell me. Ratchet wants me to rest but I'm going off my processor. Don't tell Ratchet."

"Don't tell Ratchet what?" A tall yellow-aft medico came around the corner and stopped, servos on hip assemblies and glared. "You aren't moving, Ironhide if I have to tie you down."

"Sounds good," Ironhide said his muddy voice comical.

"Too much information," Epps said climbing down. He paused and grinned at Ratchet. "You done good. It would be a terrible world with an Ironhide-shaped hole in it."

Ratchet grinned and nodded. "I know. Who would I have to kick around?"

"Damned straight," Ironhide said.

=0=Brig

Epps stood in front of the gigantic brig cell looking at the occupant, a man who had seen the elephant. He looked up gasping. Rising, he ran forward stopping short of the electrified beams that comprised bars. "Hey, get me out of here! I've been kidnapped by robots!"

"I hear you brought a gun to the party they were having. Didn't anyone tell you that they carry weapons on their bodies even when they sleep?" Epps said, anger rising in his voice. As he stood fuming the sound of heavy footsteps was heard and Epps turned nodding to the giant who was walking toward him. Optimus Prime stopped and turned staring at the tiny being who was standing in his brig. "Well, it appears that someone has been naughty," he said, a big grin on his face.

Epps snorted and nodded. "Ain't getting anything but coal for Christmas, this dumbass." Optimus grinned. So did Prowl who was standing behind him ready to witness the processing of the first none Autobot prisoner of the Autobot brig in the history of their collaboration.

/...Todd, the dumbass was now a historical figure. Yes, like George Washington, Todd the dumbass will be long remembered in these parts for his contributions to interspecies amity... not .../ Epps thought with a grin.

=0=

2010 (11)


	4. Chapters 31-40

=0=

#31: "E-4"

=0=Outside the Autobot HQ, a couple of days later

"E-4."

"Miss."

Pause.

"D-7"

"Hit. Frag."

Epps smiled glancing up at Ironhide, the big mech sitting on the big metal bench out in front of Autobot HQ, his body absorbing solar energy through the sensors hidden in his dermal layers. He had been released to limited activity and so he sat. They were playing Battleship. Epps had his laptop and Ironhide had a entertainment-designated datapad. Ironhide was losing this round. Ironhide didn't like to lose. At anything.

"You're losing, my brutha," Epps remarked with a snicker. "I guess you must be used to it. I hear that you're behind in the prank war you have going with Ratchet."

Blue optics glanced up measuring Epps. "Hmmpf."

Epps snickered leaning back in his lawn chair, the one he had stolen from the officer's patio before sauntering over. "I hear that Ratchet is kicking your ass so bad you'll be sitting on your shoulders pretty soon."

Ironhide grinned slightly, the visual appealing to his inner sparkling, then he glanced at Epps. "He just thinks he's winning. What he knows and I know is all I have to do is wait him out. When he gives, I win. I always do. Most of the time. Usually." He paused thinking. "Well, it works once in a while. Depends on the goal Ratchet is working for."

Epps looked at him considering the possibilities of asking more questions. You never did get anywhere without going as his mom was wont to say. "What's the goal this time?" he asked, a grin on his face.

Ironhide glanced up pausing his strategic planning and considered Epps. He was a soldier and a straight up mech so he told him. "Ratchet wants a sparkling."

Epps considered that, knowing that 'sparkling' meant some kind of child. "A baby."

Ironhide considered that, knowing 'baby' meant some kind of sparkling. "Yep."

"How does that work? I mean, I don't want to pry but I was wondering … how does that work?"

Ironhide pausing before speaking the coordinates upon what he assumed would be a direct hit on Epps' aircraft carrier wondered what he could say. Could he tell about spark merging, about carrying and the separation process? Could he be eloquent enough to explain the life process of a Cybertronian and all the options that they had? Did he have it in him to do it justice?

Nah.

"We merge our sparks and the energy surge makes a sparkling. The carrier carries it in their chest until separation when its removed and placed in the first of four protoforms. B-6."

Epps looked at him wondering what he just said, then looked down at his computer screen. Direct hit. "Shit."

Ironhide smiled.

=0=Ratchet

He stood in the doorway of medbay considering his next move. It had been a long time since they had 'quality time' between them or as Ironhide said just to goad him, "How about a frag, you good looking yellow-aft slagger?" Ratchet suppressed a grin. What a romantic he was, his Ironhide. They had gone high and dry about sixty orns give or take a **VORN!** and he was considering how long he would make Ironhide dance. Kinks had arisen. Two battles and a lack of follow up 'facing had been a violation of one of their most important rules, thus, a problem. That had bothered him more than anything breaking that hard and fast rule. It almost seemed to invite trouble and he would try to make sure it never happened again. Unless there was a really **really** good reason, the slagger.

He knew this war was one he wouldn't win on all his points and goals. If he had a chance to win a straight victory, he would have by now. He knew it might end this way but one of the two goals he had set himself was met. Ironhide told him without reservation that he would welcome a sparkling. That was a huge load off Ratchet's peds. He also told him the Pit would freeze over before he would be the carrier. That wasn't so good but totally expected from the beginning.

Ratchet sighed, smiling. "I guess its up to you, you yellow aft slagger to do all the dirty work." With that, he went into Medbay and began to plan his wind down strategy for the war.

=0=Ratchet and Ironhide, that evening

Ironhide sat on the berth legs crossed and his head thrown back as he leaned away, his servos behind him bracing his body. Sitting on his lap, his legs wrapped around Ironhide's great body as he leaned forward his gaze intent on Ironhide's neck, Ratchet sat. It was intense and Ironhide lowered his helm gazing at Ratchet with a smoky expression.

Ratchet, peeved tipped Ironhide's head back. "Sit still, you old mech. You'll ruin my paint job."

Ironhide cycled air through his vents, The Sexy rising in his chassis. The war was on a limited truce at the moment as Ratchet attended to some basic 'household duties'.

"You aren't going around without the dermals painted, Ironhide. I don't want anyone to think that I let you out of here looking like a dumb aft. A reverse dalmation."

Pause. Access. Downloaded. Clue.

"You calling me a dog, Ratchet? In some cultures that's an insult."

"In my culture as I make it up everyday going out looking like a clown is forbidden. Sit down here and let me paint the primer coat at least."

Ironhide passed up the table, the bench and went straight to the berth patting it with his big servo. Ratchet smirking stood stirring a paint pot with a specialized brush for painting dermal armor. "You can't 'face for a few more orns. I know. I know your doctor."

"Come on over here and play The Sexy Yellow Doctor and the Big Black Chaos Bringer with me, Ratchet. You know you want to."

Ratchet snickered and moved over kneeling in front of him. He began to stroke on the primer coat to a tiny dull gray bit of regenerated dermal plating on his thigh. Ironhide moving his thighs apart grinned, leaning back on his servos to kibitz. "You know, the old critical energy port could use some dusting off. A little bit of servos on would be a nice healing touch, Doctor Ratchet."

Ratchet schooled his face to a concerned professional expression. "You're such a femme. By the way, what kind of sparkling do you want? Femme or mech?"

"Femmes are fine. Mechs are good. What about you? And have you given up your fantasy of me being a carrier?"

"There is only a truce, Ironhide. The war isn't over yet. The negotiations haven't even begun."

There was a pause. "You really are a persistent mech, I'll hand it to you."

"Thank you," Ratchet said rising to stare down at him. "You would go out like this without me. Honestly, you have an image in the army to uphold. You can't go out looking polka dotted."

Pause. Access. Downloaded. Clue.

"It could be worse."

"How?"

Pause. "I don't know yet, Ratchet, but I know it could be."

"I have to get the ones on your neck."

He sat up and crossed his legs, patting his lap, his optic ridges waggling. "Sit here, ba-bee. Come sit on Papa's lap."

Ratchet snorted, pausing. "Hanging out with Epps is going to get you arrested some day," he said considering Ironhide's lap which looked inviting. He put the paint and brush down on the table, then moved on the berth to sit facing Ironhide, wrapping his legs around the big mech. Settling in, he sat facing Ironhide, his servos resting on Ironhide's shoulders.

"Hello," Ironhide said, a sense of triumph in his voice. He tightened his grip around Ratchet's waist. "Gotcha, Ratchet."

Ratchet smiled enjoying the moment with an intensity that was remarkable. He leaned in and kissed Ironhide lingering on his lips. "Don't forget to duck next time, Ironhide. You disappointed me this time."

Ironhide snorted and grinned, his expression becoming serious almost as quickly. "You were amazing I'm told."

"I'm sort of used to you inside and out."

"Yeah," Ironhide said kissing Ratchet softly. "I want to 'face ya, you yellow-aft miracle."

"Sweet talking won't paint your speckles any faster," Ratchet said rubbing his nose against Ironhide's.

"No," Ironhide agreed kissing Ratchet again.

Ratchet leaned back and grabbed the paint bottle sitting and stirring for a moment. His optics were focused on the bottle as he spoke once more. "I love you, Ironhide, but if you do this again I will frag your aft myself."

"Deal," Ironhide said squeezing Ratchet. Ratchet didn't look at him for a moment and when he did Ironhide could see the pain and panic that had been Ratchet's life for the past few cycles. He squeezed Ratchet pulling him close to his chassis. Ratchet lay his helm down on Ironhide's broad shoulder, the warmth and strength comforting. They sat together a moment then Ratchet sat up regarding Ironhide with a solemn gaze. "I would be unable to continue if you leave."

He nodded. "I know," Ironhide said softly. "I would follow if you left me."

Ratchet slid his arms around Ironhide and held him rubbing his cheek against his finial glyphs, the ones that proclaimed Ironhide as his own. Then he sat up and looked at Ironhide. "I have to get you back in shape but I can't make you too pretty. You're mine."

"Damned straight," Ironhide said with a smile.

=0=On the way to Medbay

Three hours later, Ratchet was headed to Medbay. He was a storm cloud of ire and everyone who saw him, paused to stare at the smears of black primer coat paint all over his body front and back looked only as long as they dared, moving elsewhere quickly. Turning the corner, glowering at First Aid, he pressed onward toward the lab and its many solutions to a myriad of problems. Sauntering along behind, a big grin on his faceplates, Ironhide wandered into Medbay too. First Aid caught in the Ironhide/Ratchet Vortex wondered if he should stay or run. Instead, he turned glancing at Ironhide. "Your paint. You're painted again."

"Yep," Ironhide said moving to Ratchet's office and sitting in his chair with a self-satisfied grin on his faceplates.

"Ah," First Aid said dropping his datapad as he walked to the door. "If Ratchet needs me, I'm … uh, I'll be out."

Ironhide smirked as the younger mech fled. Then he wiped it off as Ratchet came out of the lab, rags in one hand and a bottle of paint remover in the other. He thrust them into Ironhide's servos and said, "You fragger. You get it off."

"It's only paint, Ratchet, a small price to pay for The Sexy," Ironhide said grinning as Ratchet turned and presented his aft to him.

"You broke the rules of engagement, Ironhide. There are penalties for this," Ratchet said hiding his smirk.

"Hurt me, Ratchet," he said with a chuckle. "Hurt me."

"Count on it," he said smiling to himself. /... at least we 'faced after the battle … too bad about the paint though, you fragger .../

=0=

#32: "So, I was minding my own business..."

=0=Daily Senior Autobot Staff Meeting

Ratchet sat leaning on his elbows, a trace of black paint still here and there. The look on his faceplates discouraged comments. Ironhide sitting beside him, one servo gently rubbing Ratchet's back grinned like a self-satisfied bear. Wheeljack, a perturbed expression on his faceplates sat across from them alongside his boon companion and fellow scientist, Perceptor. Jazz sat chatting with Prowl who looked especially radiant this morning and Optimus Prime on an internal comm line conference call sat at the head of the table like the paternal figure that he was. He commed off and leaned forward grinning broadly.

Internal speculation pinged around the table as all of the mechs present considered their CO and his second including Arcee who breezed in apologies flying, taking her place as well. Prowl looked beautiful. Optimus looked immensely happy. Hmm...

Prime dispensed the speculation right away and when he told them that Prowl and he had bonded the congratulations could be heard down the corridor. Ironhide grinning like a genitor slapped Optimus' shoulder. "Now you get to know what I've known for eons, you poor sad fragger."

Laughter erupted and finally, at last, they were back on task. Prowl unaccustomed to being the focus of personal attention about his person pulled himself together and began the agenda points. First up, prisoners in the brig. Prowl presented the facts.

"Good thing you think ahead, Optimus," Ironhide said shaking his head. "I would have fragged him. Good thing you sent your missus. Springer is a good hand."

The room erupted in laughter and hoots. Ratchet shook his head. "I wouldn't have sent Kup. Great Grandpas oughta be in recharge that late at night."

More guffaws, even from Prowl.

"Do you suppose they will complain, the new humans that is?" Perceptor asked, a slight frown on his faceplates.

Prime shrugged. "I don't know. I can imagine they will. I don't think they were sent here to become allies and friends. I feel something less savory." He glanced at Jazz. "Anything on this group yet?"

"Yes," Jazz said leaning forward. "Jason "Jase" Daniels is the grandson of the current United States Senate Majority Leader. His family is very prominent in conservative politics and they have a great influence in the neoconservative movement. To cut to the chase, they won't be allies. Apparently, Intel-Martin has financial interests in a number of war-related industries includin' munitions. Some of them, Altadyne and Paraception are the ones lobbyin' hard and fast in the government to get access to our technology."

Prime nodded, sitting back. "They won't get it but continue."

"Ole Jase is a graduate of good schools, adept at makin' influential friends and isn't here for the good of the order. Nothin' he does is pointless. He is here for the technology and I would consider him a spy. Until the intel changes I wouldn't consider him otherwise."

Prime nodded. "The others?"

"They are long time employees of Intel-Martin, have been in and out of war zones all over the world providing protection to commercial and governmental interests and the like. They have a bad record, Optimus. Todd has against him several allegations of murder in Iraq, shootin' civilians for fun. There are drug and alcohol atrocities as well as allegations of abuse and forced prostitution among underaged sparkling mechs and femmes floatin' around out there."

They sat a moment reflecting on the idea that Decepticons weren't just limited to Cybertron. Then Prime leaned forward resting on his elbows, his digits laced. "I want them to be watched. I want to know if they trip, if they chat and who with. I want them on someone's sensors at all times. They are forbidden to come here and I want it spread to the troops that I will personally intervene on their afts if they even so much as speak to these people. They already have shown a disposition to fight and make trouble. We won't be the ones who start anything. Get the word out." He sat back, his rage only slightly mollified. "What has Mirage been up to, Jazz?"

"He has been listenin' in. They're pretty low brow and disgustin', Prime."

"Have him spend his time monitoring them. That is his main assignment and he can choose his times."

Jazz nodded. "I will."

It was silent a moment as they processed the information. Then Arcee spoke up. "I am sorry that I was late but I had a great conversation with an Air Force Sargent, one in traffic control. She is sympathetic to us especially since the new humans arrived and is open to being a help to us, especially in alerting us about civilian plots and plans."

Prime nodded. "Tell her we are happy she is so kindly disposed but tell her that we don't want her to compromise her oath or her ethics. I don't want her to get into trouble and I don't want our allies, the soldiers and the military to think that we are acting behind them to compromise their people."

Arcee nodded. "I will make sure its going to be 'innocent' between us... sort of a femme-to-femme thing." She smiled. "I don't expect any of you to understand." She winked at Ironhide, one of her best friends over the eons and fellow pranker. He grinned. "I don't understand Ratchet. Femmes? Oh, Primus..." he said shaking his head.

That brought a moment of teasing and chuckles, then Prowl continued. "The mystery of Barricade and Bumblebee is next. I have no ideas what led to that fortuitous circumstance. First Aid did all the proper diagnostics and scans. They didn't implant anything."

Ratchet nodded. "I went through the data ..." Then he paused, frowning. "Just a moment please." He commed Medbay internally. :Ratchet to Medbay:

:Medbay. First Aid:

:First Aid, where is Bumblebee? Did you discharge him?:

Pause.

:Uh, no.: Pause. :Ratchet … there was so much chaos, I forgot he was here:

"Frag," Ratchet muttered. "Ratchet to Ops Center."

"Ops Center, Red Alert."

"Patch me through the entire Autobot comm system both audio and internal, Red."

Prime, a grin forming on his face leaned back. Ironhide still rubbing Ratchet's back moved his servo like he touched a hot stove. Grinning at Prime, he also leaned back and waited.

"You are go, Ratchet."

"Thanks, Red." Ratchet paused a moment, then sat up straight, his expression one of intense aggravation. "I want your attention. I am giving Bumblebee one breem to materialize in the Conference Room off Ops Center or I will personally dismantle his little carcass and make belt buckles out of him for the soldiers. Do I have to come and get you, Bumblebee? Don't make me come and get you. **GET YOUR AFT IN HERE! NOW!** Ratchet out."

The halls reverberated with the Wrath of Hatchet, the internal comm lines of every Autobot in the solar system including Cosmos who was bringing the latest shipment of supplies from outside the orbit of Pluto heard it. They all paused shaking their heads. Bee was done for they considered and a couple of them taking pity began to search.

"So while we're waiting for Bumblebee is there anything anyone can deduce from this strange occurrence?" Prime asked spreading his servos in a gesture of confusion himself.

"Barricade doesn't give up kills," Ironhide said. "This puzzles me. He said that Starscream wanted you to know that he was to hurt Bee and not kill him. He was to tell you about this. It's personal for Screamer and I don't know why it would be, although the little fragger can be annoying," he concluded with a smile.

Prime grinned, shaking his head. "We can't know until we see him."

=0=Sunstreaker and Bluestreak, Sideswipe, Hound and Trailbreaker, rec room

They listened and snorted as they sat around the rec room shooting the breeze. It was too hot to train, too hot to shoot, so they sat together talking. Sunstreaker remembering through a haze that Bumblebee had shown up at the party the night before considered where he might be now. He rose and turned, Blue catching his servo. "Where you going?" he asked.

"I have an idea where Bee is. I'm going to get him," Sunny said winking.

They watched him go skating quickly out and across the tarmac. "Bee is done for if he doesn't get to that room," Hound said leaning against Trailbreaker's shoulder. "Ratchet will make cannisters out of him."

"Don't worry," Bluestreak said sweetly. "Sunstreaker will find him."

And he did.

"Bee?" he asked having crossed the tarmac, jumped the electrical fence landing gracefully and ripping down the beach to the place where the party took place. He looked around. The burned out pit, the depressions in the sand where they had sat and danced, it was all still there. So was a yellow aft covered with seaweed sprawled on the sand, obscured by a series of rocks and drift wood.

Grinning, Sunstreaker knelt and touched Bee's ped. He was still offline and over energized. Sunny rose and put his servos on his hip assemblies. He shook his head, a smile on his faceplates. "Fraggin' mini-cons."

Then he had an idea.

=0=At Ops Center, the conference room

Just before one breem was over, Sunstreaker skated to a stop before the door of the conference room, Bumblebee slung over his shoulder. He tapped and Arcee opened staring at him with surprise and amusement. Rolling back, she made room for him to enter and lay the mini-con on the table next to Ratchet who looked at him with a frown.

"He was still at the beach," Sunny said, his expression and optics as innocent as a newly separated sparkling. With a nod and a grin, he backed out and turned, fleeing as fast as he could.

They stared after Sunstreaker, then all optics landed on Bumblebee. They then shifted to Ratchet who was still staring at Bumblebee with irritation.

"Ratchet, if you would do the honors," Prime asked suppressing his grin.

He looked at Prime and then shifted, standing to subspace the antidote to overindulgent stupidity. He stuck it into Bee's neck none to gently and everyone present flinched in sympathy. Bumblebee roused, sitting up on the table to look around with a bleary optic. "Hi," he said to Prime, smiling until he turned and saw Ratchet standing over him, servos on hip assemblies and fire in both his optics. "Oh."

"Oh, my aft! **WHAT WERE YOU DOING AT A PARTY AND WHO LET YOU OUT!"**

Prime intervened assuring Ratchet that he could have the mini-con after the meeting so Ratchet sat down only partially placated, his optics fixed on Bumblebee who sat on the table with forbearing.

"Bumblebee, we need to know what happened between you and Barricade," Prime said.

Bee looked at his commander and genitor-figure with a fearful optic. He spun around on the table, sliding off to take a seat. "I was going to Denver to meet with Arcee to do the initial scouting. I believe I was followed from Sam's home by Barricade. He has a new alt vehicle mode and I didn't catch on. I think he also has a way to dampen his signature."

"Preceptor, I would like you and Wheeljack to explore that concept and let us know what you think. I know it's not a lot of information but if they have new technology that allows them to get close to us without detection, we need counter measures," Prime said. The two nodded. "Continue, Bumblebee."

"I picked up on him after we were 500 miles out from Denver and I couldn't shake him," Bee said. "He and I are matched pretty well. But he sent his blades after me when it looked like he wasn't going to catch up and I was leaking energon for miles. It was only a matter of time. I was so dizzy I finally slid off a turn."

"He came down and talked to you," Ironhide said.

"He did and he kicked me a couple of times. He's still mad about the time I cleaned his processor," Bee said grinning slightly at the memory of the first time he met the Allspark, his Sam. "He said that he was told not to kill me, just hurt me good. Then he said that I was to make sure that you, sir, knew that Starscream ordered it and to let you know and understand that," he said looking at Optimus with a quizzical look.

"He didn't saw anything else?" Wheeljack asked.

"No," Bumblebee said.

"Hmm. Well, you can go, Bumblebee," Prime said nodding in thought. "Go to Medbay and stay there. You aren't discharged until Ratchet says so," he said glancing at Ratchet who nodded. "We don't take chances with ourselves, Bumblebee. You need to follow procedures because they work to keep us all safe and functioning."

Bee nodded, a shamefaced expression on his faceplates. "Yes, sir." He rose and walked around the end of the table pausing in front of the door as he looked at Prime. "I meant to get there, sir. I truly meant to. I didn't want anyone to get wounded because I wasn't able to get there."

"We know, Bee," Prime said covering his mouth with his servo.

Bee nodded back and turned to walk out, the door closing behind him. He didn't understand why the sound of intense laughter filled the conference room when he left. He just felt terrible so he went to Medbay distraught. He climbed on a med berth and lay facing the wall, his back to the world, his optics filling with coolant.

Behind him he heard footsteps but he didn't care. Then a soft voice spoke to him. "Bumblebee?"

He looked over his shoulder at the discomfited face of First Aid.

"Bee? Why do you have glyphs on your aft?"

For a moment, Bumblebee just looked at him. Then he hopped down walking in a circle trying to look. First Aid taking pity brought a mirror. Then Bumblebee saw it.

"For a good time, comm Bumblebee. He won't remember nothing later on."

He looked up, the fuzz lifting on his processor. "Sunny."

=0=

#33: Confrontation

=0=Shortly after the Senior Autobot Staff Meeting

They drove across the tarmac, two black SUV's, one following the other. The sun was hot, the rec room they were heading for was filled with off duty Autobots. The huge hangar that was the entrance of the Autobot HQ and Embassy had its doors opened wide during the day and most nights. The main floor was filled with tables and chairs, energon dispensers lined one wall, entertainment equipment filled another. Near the back the main two lane road led to the living and storage areas on the floors below.

Ops Center and the Medbay occupied the back part of the underground facility's first floor. The walls were thick and strong, the ceilings of the entire place never less than twenty-two feet high. Taller mechs like Optimus, Springer and Ironhide had to lower their helm in some places but those places were very few. It was ideal.

The SUV's drove with confidence and were spotted about halfway across the tarmac. The Autobots inside, those lounging outside and in the doorway were told already that these humans were off limits. The Aerialbots even knew what Prime ordered and that it would be a personal offense against his authority to do less than obey. No one wanted a dressing down from Prime, not even the Wreckers.

Springer sitting near the door as he played cards with the twins and Kup noticed them first. Rising to stare as they came closer, he considered the negative potential of the moment. They did not slow down and it appeared that they were going to drive right inside. He glanced at Jazz, himself rising to watch. "Better get Prime. I'll block their path." Jazz nodded and the two mechs parted each going their way.

Springer walked calmly past tense mechs, all of them stilled by the effrontery of the humans and their lack of options about it. He stood at the doorway motioning the mechs outside to come in. They did, obeying the Wrecker who had been point mech on the problem from klik one. He stood waiting calmly and when the SUVs kept driving, he stepped in their way causing them to pull up.

He stared down at them, twenty-five feet of green and yellow ferocity, cool optics and a lifetime of hard fighting and play behind him. Springer was part of a tradition that kept Prime awake at night, the last go-to mech, the last line of defense, the enforcer. The Wreckers were legendary and two of the most legendary, Springer and Kup were here protecting the Autobots as they always had.

None of the humans in the cars knew that. They just saw a gigantic green and yellow robot towering over them, his big peds stepping down to block their path. Jase Daniels considered this, then climbed out pausing to look up. "Hey, we need to see your leader, Optimus."

Springer, his helm tilting stared at the little organic, reading in his intuitive programming a deep abiding dislike for the man and all he stood for. "He is called Prime."

Daniels paused, the deep voice of the robot surprisingly harsh for what he perceived to be a reasonable moment. Behind him, peering out of the vehicle with an indeterminate expression on his face, Todd watched warily. The night before had shaken his manhood but he was recovering, the anger building up inside of him intense.

"You bringing him back?" Springer asked with a smirk as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe rolled up behind giving him back up, their seven foot swords slipping in and out of their sheaths. Springer was aware of it and knew the twins wouldn't do anything that he didn't order. He wasn't afraid of their presence at this flashpoint moment. He knew their quality. Unlike he thought these little insects.

"Who? Todd?" Daniels asked glancing back. He shook his head at Todd, an angry expression on his face. Todd slipped back inside the car and closed the door. Daniels turned looking back up at Springer. "We wish to see the Prime. We would like you to move and let us in."

"No can do," Springer said, his optics never leaving Daniels. "This is diplomatic space and you can't come here unless you're invited."

"Then invite us. **Please** ," Daniels added, irritation rising inside of him, an unaccustomed sense of frustration at being denied something he wanted. This robotic fucker was going to be trouble he considered.

Springer pretended to be thinking about it. Then he simply said, "Nope."

Snickers and laughter filled the hangar as the Autobots chuckled over the human's discomfiture.

Then Optimus Prime walked into the room moving through his troops toward the hangar door, a grim-faced Prowl and Ironhide in tow.

=0=In Medbay

"It serves you right."

"I thought you were laughing at me when I said I was sorry."

Ratchet pausing turned to look at the forlorn youngling mini-con sitting on the med berth, his door wings drooping so low as to be flat on his back, his optics filling with coolant. Ratchet replayed the moment and shook his head. It would seem that they were. "We laughed at the glyphs, you little glitch, not your efforts. We know your worth, Bumblebee."

Bumblebee lowered his head rubbing his faceplates with his servos. Ratchet, his deeply hidden, deeply closeted but all encompassing good-heartedness bubbling up in the well pit of aggravation called his spark walked to Bee and embraced him. Bee sniffled and wept, Ratchet swayed and held him.

=0=At the hangar doors

Prime pinged Springer acknowledging his situation assessment and moved to stand with him, sensing on the edge of his processor that other vehicles were careening over, these filled with allies, Graham, Lennox and Epps. He looked at Daniels, taking in his slender form, glasses and oddly experience free complexion. He didn't look like he had ever even frowned let alone acquired lines denoting effort, failure and learning of life's great leveling lessons. Even Daniel's bow tie irked him. "You wished to speak with me."

Daniels looked up once more assimilating the discombobulating experience of talking to such a huge figure, one that was alien to their world and experience. "I do. We were driving over to speak to you before this person blocked us."

"Mech."

He looked at Springer, the cold menace in Springer's voice only matched by the cold menace in his optics. "What?"

"Mech. I'm a mech, not a person."

Prime watched as Springer sparred, the human becoming flustered and irritated. Good information he thought.

"Whatever. I don't mean to be rude," Daniels began again before Springer cut him off again.

"You were. Rude," he replied. Prime waited absorbing the human's personality and all his tels, the soft touch of Prowl's servo on his arm comforting.

Daniels stared at Springer, then turned looking at Prime with a expression of irritation. "Look, **can we talk**? I have some concerns about a couple of things and the treatment of one of my men was also a problem for me."

The Autobots were silent, their optics moving from Prime to Daniels to Springer and back to Prime. There was enough fire power in that room alone to wipe out Diego Garcia in nanokliks, yet the human pushed his aggressive personality, talking to their Prime in a wholly unsatisfactory manner. They were all to the last mech deeply offended and their ire was rising. Prime was aware of it too.

"I will speak to you," Prime said. "Outside."

"I was thinking a chat in your office, just the two of us," Daniel said smiling without the emotion touching his eyes.

"I was thinking we could stand outside and Prowl, Ironhide, Jazz and Springer could be with us. And those people," Prime said nodding.

Behind them, pulling up and piling out, Epps, Lennox and Graham stepped moving past the SUV's to end up where Prime and his people stood. "Optimus," Lennox said glancing at Daniels. He, Epps and Graham turned moving to stand next to the mechs.

Inside the Embassy.

That move was not lost on Daniels and he looked at the soldiers with a cold expression. "We don't need the soldiers."

Prime shook his head. "Those are the conditions of a meeting. Accept it or not. I am busy."

Daniels outgunned and out numbered agreed. "Very well." He turned and slammed his hand down on the hood of the SUV that had brought him. He began to walk forward glancing over his shoulder. "Tell me when," he said, a slight tone of condescension in his voice.

"When you get to New York," Lennox said shaking his head.

Prime looked down at him and smiled. "Why stop there?" he said.

Lennox smiled and they all, Springer, Ironhide, Jazz, Prowl, Prime and their allies, Epps, Lennox and Graham stepped forward going to meet their enemy together.

=0=Elsewhere

Arcee in alt robotic mode stood with her new friend, an Air Force Sargent by the name of Cindy Ducket. They had met when Arcee was sunning herself near the enlisted men's barracks. Femmes were also there and she had felt a longing for female company. Her team colleagues were still on their way in the vast universe. A number of the women seemed to want to come over but only one did, Cindy Ducket. They had talked finding many points of commonality.

Arcee had also found out Cindy liked them, that she spent time watching them to understand them and that she thought Optimus Prime should run for President. Arcee found out also that the regular soldiers, airmen and women were fed up with the civilian liaisons and that the inclusion of the mercenaries into one of the best secured installations on the planet was not only deeply insulting but professionally disgusting. Some of the soldiers and air force personnel on the base had served with them in other theaters. They were loathed.

When Cindy would jog in the early morning before the sun was too hot, Arcee would go along with her, riding slowly along in alt robotic mode, her angular and slender beauty interesting to the mechanic. They had much in common and Cindy shared her personal details as well. Her mechanic husband was stationed in California not too far from Mission City oddly enough and her two children were dear to her heart.

They were simpatico.

By the end of the first week that Arcee was here on the Earth, Cindy had become more than a friend. She had become an ally. She had made the call to Epps, Lennox and Graham about Daniels' plan to speak with Optimus and they were there because of her.

It would not be the last one she made.

=0=

#34: This took the spot of a boo boo and should be discounted. :D 

=0=

#35: The Confrontation Part 2

=0=Outside the Autobot Complex and Embassy

They gathered in the hangar watching through the open doors. On the runway Silverbolt transformed into his alt robotic format and walked toward HQ, his expression one of distaste and anger. The shadow he cast was pause making and they all did staring up at the Autobot, marveling at his present format because he had never used it on Earth until now. Bending down on one knee, he leaned toward Optimus. "Are you well? Do you need assistance, Prime?" he asked.

Optimus turned shaking his helm. "We have it under control, Silverbolt. It will be fine."

He nodded and rose, turning to walk back toward the runway before pausing. Staring back at the group, he stood folding his arms over his chassis, his faceplates cold and intense in expression.

Daniels stunned by the figure of the gigantic Autobot turned and looked at the assembled group. "What the fuck?" he said, a look of astonishment on his face.

Springer shook his head. "No. His name is Silverbolt."

Prime quashed a smile and turned looking down at the human. "You wished to speak to me."

Daniels turned toward Prime, his train of thought lost for a moment. "If you think you can intimidate me with this show I want you to know I won't be."

They all stared at him without comment. He looked from one face to another waiting.

"Is that all?" Prime asked quietly.

Daniels blinked, pausing. "No, actually. You threw a member of my party into your brig. I would like an explanation."

Prime looked at Springer and nodded. The big Wrecker glanced down, then knelt on one knee assembly. He leaned a little bit into Daniels' face. "Your boy brought a gun to a gathering of our youngling soldiers and was drunk out of his skull. He was going there to cause trouble. I was on guard duty and intercepted him. He ended up in our brig because he was trespassing, waving firearms and constituting a public nuisance." Springer stared at him a moment, his glare a clear indication of his contempt for the man, then he rose stepping back to his Prime.

"That isn't what he told us. He said he was riding a four wheeler and was attacked. Then he was held under a robot foot for an hour or so before taken into the building, humiliated in front of the robots that were sitting around, threatened and made to fear for his life. Then he was thrown literally into the brig."

Prime glanced at Springer whose optics had not left Daniels. Springer, his voice cold and frightening shook his head. "No. He lies."

"He is telling me the **truth**." Daniels was adamant. He glared at all of them.

"He was armed, drunk and trespassing." Springer was adamant too.

"He wasn't armed," Daniels said in reply.

Prime watched the exchange noting that the man had little sense. Springer, one of the nicest mechs but a terrible foe was not causing any of the normal reactions in the man before them. That wasn't a good thing. He was either beyond the hope of common sense, someone who either had big power or thought he did. Either way was trouble.

Springer reached into subspace, a sight that caused Daniels to blink. He held up a tiny gun, a gun that was tiny in his gigantic servo, then he dropped it, the weapon clattering on the ground at Daniels' feet. Daniels jumped back staring at the gun. "What is this?" he asked looking up at Springer, an angry expression on his face.

"The gun he never had," Springer said, his voice as calm as if he was giving a weather report. "It sure doesn't belong to any of us."

Snickers met that remark and they all stood quietly, staring at Daniels with varying degrees of contempt. Daniels to his credit didn't waver. "You could have put that gun here," he said glancing them. "Or **they** did." He pointed at the soldiers.

Lennox and the two soldiers groaned as they shook their heads. "You hired dirt to work for you, dirt. These mercs are the scum of the earth and I can tell you right now if they get out of line one time around us they're going to be in cuffs and out of here. You may be happy to associate with scum but we aren't. All of us, mech and human are professionals. We're a team and you would do well to keep your scum on a short leash around here," the big human said.

"Are you **threatening me**?" Daniels said moving closer to Lennox. Lennox enraged moved toward Daniels but Springer's hand ended that confrontation. He looked at Lennox with a grin. "Don't waste your time."

"Mr. Daniels," Prime said moving forward and kneeling on one knee, his helm closer to his foe. "We are a tight knit community here and it is part of what keeps us alive when we go out to hunt the enemy. We are not going to allow discord among our team. You would do well to keep your men out of our territory. My soldiers have orders to ignore yours but there can always be that moment when things happen that can't be undone. You would do well to heed the advice you're been given here. And I would like to remind you that there are treaties governing us as well as our living and work space. It would stand you in good stead to read them." Prime rose and looked at Daniels coldly. "You may not disrupt our relationships and our commitment to each other, the soldiers and us."

"So you're blowing me off?" Daniels said, his fists clenched and his affect enraged.

"I am going to ignore you, Mr. Daniels until I don't have to. We have important work to do here. We did it before you came and we will continue after you go." Prime was glacial and Daniels got it.

"We'll see," Daniels said glaring at them all. He turned and walked to his SUV climbing inside. The SUV's revved and jumped forward swerving as close to Springer's peds as they dared before turning to drive off at speed. The group stood and watched, silent and disgusted.

Jazz stepped forward looking at the trail of dust that was Jase Daniels and Company. Then he turned and grinned at his Prime. "Well, I think that went well. Don't you?"

The laughter was long and loud.

=0=Later in Ops Center

Mirage materialized and walked toward Jazz pulling an empty seat over to sit, his knees touching his lover's. Jazz reading code smiled and leaned in for a kiss. Mirage smiling, obliged. "I have something astounding for you, my wondrous companion."

Jazz smiled again.

=0=Medbay

"And I want you to make sure that you … blah, blah, blah."

Bumblebee schooled his faceplates to listen to Ratchet but he was itching to go. Sunstreaker had nearly though inadvertently broken his heart with his little stunt. He was sure that there was something he could do in return.

"And then you will do blah-blah-blah, and then take this and bluck-bluck-bluck..."

Bumblebee sitting on a medbed, his peds unable to reach the floor just kept nodding.

=0=At a computer station in the Teletraan nexus room

"You're kiddin' me," Jazz said, his processor unable to grasp what Mirage was telling him. "Show me."

"You will absolutely glitch, Jazz. I am not kidding you," Mirage said sitting to tap into the massive capabilities of the Teletraan computer system.

Jazz leaned over his shoulder, the impossibility of it ringing in his processor.

=0=In Prime's Office

Prowl leaned over next to him, his optics scanning the plans that Optimus had spread out on his desk. "This is extraordinary, Optimus. You should have told me. I could have helped you."

Optimus sitting in his chair watching Prowl's facial expressions smiled. "How much of the load do you want to carry, Prowl? You do so much already … too much."

"I want to help you, Optimus," Prowl said looking into Prime's face. "Always."

Optimus slipped his arm around Prowl's waist. He leaned against Prowl's chassis smiling. "You do, Prowl. And you will."

=0=At a computer station in the Teletraan nexus room

"Oh sweet Primus. Oh, Mirage. This is … this is impossibly stupid." Jazz looked at Mirage, the confirmation on the screen before him. "We have to get Prime."

Mirage nodded as he sat back watching as Jazz marveled, an altogether beautiful sight.

:Jazz to Prime:

:Prime:

:Prime, come to the nexus room. Mirage found something utterly stupendous:

:On my way:

Jazz stood staring at the screen with a huge sappy grin on his face. "He will never believe this. This is too stupid to be believable."

Mirage nodded, smiling. "But it is."

Jazz nodded in delighted agreement.

=0=

#36: "You've got mail!"

=0=At a computer station in the Teletraan nexus room

Prime sat in the chair staring at the screen, the words appearing but not sinking into his processor. It was too stupid, too funny, too improbable. But it was true. Here it was, right here. The possibilities would take research. They might have let down a firewall and the opening could mean great things. But first he had to just let it settle in first. He turned to the group of mechs behind him looking from one face to another. "Mirage, tell me again … I'm speechless."

Mirage smiled and shook his head. "I am too. I was listening in, sitting and eavesdropping next to the patio where the mercs like to sit and talk. One of them had a laptop and was posting on a bulletin board. They were talking about some gossip they had heard from a soldier that had been posted here. They had a private bulletin board, an encrypted one that comes out of Intel-Martin in which they talked to their friends and their friend's friends. Not all of the members were that well vetted. Apparently, some of the posters were mercs for Intel-Martin and they were talking to the soldiers here and it got out."

It was silent a moment then Prime shook his helm. "I can't believe it. This is so ..."

"Stupid?" Jazz said smiling brilliantly.

"Exactly," Prime said with a smile of his own. "I want every post downloaded and analyzed."

"Already done," Mirage said. "I had to have something to do while I watched them." He frowned. "They are vile people."

"And they like to gossip," Jazz said with a chuckle.

"They do. What did you find, Mirage? The short and sweet," Prime asked glancing at Prowl. Prowl was looking at the screen with a half glitched expression. Prime took his servo. "Prowl?"

"It can't be this can it?" he asked shaking his head in a stupor.

"I think I'll take it from here," Prime said squeezing Prowl's hand. "You can go, Prowl. I'll fill you in later."

Prowl looked at Prime, shaking his head. "This is so … so ..."

"So-so," Jazz said grinning. "Go, Prowl. I'll be the gofer."

Prowl nodded, glancing at Optimus with an incredulous expression. "I'll go," he said turning to walk slowly out of the room. They watched him go.

"Poor Prowler. A reasonable logical mech in a dumb aft world," Jazz said grinning. "What do you want us to do, Optimus?"

"First, I want Smokescreen to stay with Sam. We can't allow Bumblebee out of here until we figure out what to do about this." Prime paused, shaking his head. "I can't … process this either." Then he laughed. They all laughed.

=0=Negotiations that evening

"This is not fair."

"Who said life was fair?"

"Ratchet, you're a trained diplomat with experience."

"And you are the wiliest old mech I ever faced. Now what do you say?"

Ironhide considered the question and decided. "Mech."

"All right." Ratchet ticked off another item on his list of negotiable items under discussion, or as Ironhide put it, 'tell me the fraggin' stuff you want so we can be normal again, Ratchet' list. "We will have a mech." Ratchet grinned. "What about names, Ironhide?"

Ironhide grinned, shrugging. "I want a good stand up name. Our sparkling will be along the awesome end of the scale so it will need an awesome name."

"True," Ratchet said grinning. "Paint scheme."

"I don't know. Black is kinda nice," Ironhide said with a smile.

"How about a combination of yellow and black?"

"That will be nice. I guess. How about red?"

"Red?"

"As good as any color."

"I see I will have to do a bunch of the designing," Ratchet said shaking his head. "Now, we have to decide when to merge. It may take more than one time."

"I'm not sure this will be a good time, Ratchet."

Silence.

=0=Later that night

"I can't believe it."

Prime grinned. "I know. But you have to understand that not every Cybertronian gets the way things work here. I don't think that every Cybertronian understands that not all cars are sentient."

Prowl nodded, his fingers tracing circles on Prime's hip. "Starscream is a dolt."

"He is," Prime said laughing. "I have to tell you, I find this intriguing. We could use it to our advantage."

"That is true," Prowl said, his battle computer kicking in and forming a list of options for Prowl to present. He grinned. Maybe this wasn't so stupid after all.

=0=Daily Senior Autobot Staff Meeting

They sat stunned. Ironhide looked at Ratchet and Ratchet looked at him, then Ratchet looked at Prime, then Prowl and then Prime again. "No," he said smirking, waiting for the punchline.

"Yes," Jazz said chuckling.

"No."

=0=Autobot-N.E.S.T. Striker Team HQ

"Optimus wants us at the meeting room in a few minutes," Will Lennox said leaning in a doorway.

Epps turned to him and nodded, juggling a phone and a computer. "I'm going now. I'll find Niall and go."

Will Lennox and Niall Graham drove their jeep into the Autobot HQ waving to friends, then drove to the door of the conference room where the meetings were held. Parking, they walked into the open door, pushed the rolling ladder over, climbing up and walking to the chairs left on the table for them. Jazz was there lounging with a big smile on his face.

"Hey, Jazz," Niall said.

"Hey, Niall. I am here to brief you. Is Epps coming?" Jazz asked leaning forward, resting his arms on the table.

"He's right behind us," Will said. "What's up?"

At that moment, Epps entered and climbed the ladder, walking across to take a seat. Will nodded to Jazz. "Hit us with it, Jazz."

Jazz just smiled.

=0=Five minutes later

"No."

"Yes."

"No. No, really... no?"

"Yes."

=0=Ten minutes later in the Teletraan nexus room

They stood on a counter kneeling to look at the screen that Jazz used to pull emails and other posts to the off limits encrypted bulletin board, 'First Strike Warriors'. They read them, the gossip that was posted by the mercs that had worked with soldiers, a couple of soldiers who were now mercs and a few malcontents on both sides who loved to slag.

Email after email told the story. Details of life on Diego Garcia were listed. Much of the detail was wrong or just a bit off but some of it was correct. Some of it was bitching. Some of it was score settling. Some of it was puffery among men-at-arms, penis waving. Then it got down to the newest posts spanning the entire time the Autobots had been associated with the army.

They told of behaviors and attitudes. Sunstreaker had a number of threads and there were a few blurry cellphone pictures of him. The consensus opinion was that he was a dangerous psycho but an awesome ride. There were also threads that specialized in discussion of his alt lambo form. His paint job was considered state of the art and much discussion was had about how to get one like it on their personal vehicles.

Other threads discussed Prowl and Prime, speculating on them and their personal habits. In fact, more than three quarters of the threads were speculation on their personal habits and lives. Sex in particular was a much discussed topic. How they did it, did they do it, why would they do it, how did they get little Transformers. It was endless, raw, crude and on the most brief occasion, funny.

Then there were the most recent posts. The ones that were most pertinent were the breathless posts someone going by Thunderbird2 made about the personal life of Optimus Prime:

From: Thunderbird2 intel-martin undisclosed listserv

To: First-Strike-Warriors undisclosed listserv

Date: October 14, 2010

Hey! Glad you could reply. I have the pictures. The lambo is my dream car. But that isn't the big news. Our deep down mole sent me a hot tip about the leader, that Prime guy.

He's a fag!

That's the trueth! I was told that he finally introduced his family when the Witwicky kid came over to Diego. He had them meet the kid's ride, that sweet Camaro. That is one sweet concept car.

Anyway, our source told us that he's actually married in some kind of weird way to a robot named Springer. And get this. Springer is a guy! And there is a couple of other robots in the family. There's some really old crazy robot named Cup. He's the grandfather or something and there are two others. A brother or sister or kids or something. The Camaro is their kid, Prime and Springer!

How in the **HELL** do you have a kid when you're a robot? Anyway, they were all introduced and everyone was nuts and I am just crawling on the floor here. There all fags. All of them! We are being defended by fag robots!

Gotta go. Will send more later.

Thunderbird2

-0-

There was silence in the room for a moment.

Will blinked and looked at Niall who was blushing with embarrassment. "Well, first of all they can't spell."

Jazz chuckled. "It gets better. Check out the next email."

-0-

From: High-Flier undisclosed listserv

(this address is censored for security purposes)

To: First-Strike-Warriors undisclosed listserv

Date: October 16, 2010

I am new to this list. I am interested in the information posted about Optimus Prime and his 'family'. If you could post what you have including pictures I would appreciate it. I am a robotics engineer doing research for a project that requires me to post anonymously.

I regret that I must. I am delighted to spend time with warriors with so much skill and dedication to their country and their professions. I will be posting non-classified images of my own project as soon as I can. Thank you very much.

High-Flier

-0-

"Who is that do you suppose?" Epps asked glancing at Jazz.

"We took a lot of time to answer that question. It took a lot of signal trackin' and a lot of hackin' but it's this guy." Jazz pressed a button and the poster's face filled the screen. They stared in awe, turning to look at Jazz with astonishment.

"Are you sure?" Will asked sputtering.

"We tracked it right back to the source. It's him all right," Jazz said looking at the figure on the screen. That figure was Starscream.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet, in the dark

"So Starscream beat Bumblebee's aft because he thinks he's Prime's sparkling."

"I don't want to talk about **sparklings**."

Silence

"Ratchet?"

Silence

"Ratchet, how long do I have to recharge on the couch?"

Silence

"Slag."

=0=

#37 "Well, this is another fine mess you've gotten me into..."

=0=Senior Autobot Staff Meeting and assorted vested interests bull session

They sat together digesting the information that Jazz and Mirage had provided, the confounding information. It was just a joke, **a little joke**. A simple pay back by Ironhide for an insult to Ratchet. Now it had turned into a weapon that was being lobbed in all seriousness by of all sorts, Starscream.

"It appears that the American government has been gathering every email, phone conversation, digital and electronic transmission for years under the guise of national security. I don't believe this is something they could have anticipated," Mirage said consulting the terrabytes of information he had just on the one datapad in his servos. "I have not identified the way he is accessing that information, just that it's compromised."

Prime nodded. "How is he accessing this bulletin board? If I am not mistaken, Intel-Martin does cyber security as well, therefore their systems and all the related traffic would have at least very good security."

"For human systems," Mirage agreed. "Screamer is accessing them through a company FTP server and there are any number of ways they can log in. There are anonymous logins where the client gives their address but it's almost never checked. There are security protocols on systems now and it's harder to do this but nothing here is foolproof and nothing can stand up against a cyber hack by someone with our level of technology and expertise. I can hack any commercial computer system myself and I'm not the expert that Jazz is."

"FTPS allows for FTP sessions to be encrypted. The request is made and the server has the option of denying or allowing the request. The thing that I've found about this server is that it is not encrypted or firewalled to the degree you would expect. They must be so sure of themselves and their people that they have essentially left a window open," Jazz said smiling.

"And Starscream flew in," Ratchet said shaking his head. "My diary has more protection."

"You have a diary?" Ironhide asked, his optic ridges hiked in surprise. "I didn't know that."

"The sheer metric tonnage you don't know about me, Ironhide," Ratchet said, "would sink a battlecruiser."

"Battleship. I think you mean battleship, Ratchet," Prowl said innocently, scanning his agenda datapad and missing the scowl that he was sent from Ratchet. Prime smiled.

"We can enter the list as well as anyone else, cover our tracks on transmission origin and have some fun, Optimus," Jazz said grinning.

Prime nodded. "We will. Right now, we have to ensure that Bumblebee stays put."

"And the rest of the 'fam'?" Jazz asked innocently.

Everyone chuckled including Optimus. Prowl, a slight smirk on his face glanced at Optimus. "And your 'bond'?"

"My 'bond' is right here in this room," Optimus said fondly looking at Prowl as if he invented him.

If Prowl could have blushed he would have. Turning his optics to the list, they began again. "Daniels and his mercs."

"Everyone is in the loop about avoiding them. I want it to remain so. I don't want anyone in the shared spaces without a partner. That includes the firing range, the obstacle course and even the beaches. The buddy plan is going to be a weapon against accusations. Springer is in charge of security of Autobot activity if it pertains to or intersects with them at any point." Prime thought for a moment. "I want chapter and verse on this man including any connection he might have even tenuously with Intel-Martin. Something tells me that this appointment isn't accidental."

Prowl nodded. "The Tyrest Treaty is being bandied about on the 24/7 news outlets, especially the conservative ones. The opinion in conservative circles is that we should be grateful and give them our technology since we are being supported on the generosity of the tax payers more or less."

Prime nodded. "The treaty is going to hold and we are going to address the problem of perception about the taxpayers." He nodded to Perceptor.

"Prime, Wheeljack and I have been in discussions for some time about this issue and we have developed a list of useful non weapons technology that we can use to pay for our support and expenses and make ourselves independent of that argument. What we have decided to do is apply for international patents for water and air filtration technology. We are also going to apply for patents for solar energy batteries and transparent metals such as steel and aluminum."

"Patents. They give ownership to ideas, correct? I remember on Cybertron that industrialists used to rob inventors without recourse. Of course, before your time, Optimus," Ratchet said remembering a long bitch session about it with friends.

"They do. What the stumbling block though is our status here. It will be a problem if we can be declared anything other than permanent refugees so that we can apply and hold patents on our technology. There is a conversation going on right now to settle if we actually are considered residents of this planet and therefore will own title to our products and thus, no one else can copy them," Wheeljack said.

"The Autobot treaties thus far should take care of that," Prowl said frowning. "I will research it."

"Residents," Ironhide said shaking his head. "I park my aft in my bunk every night. Last time I looked that meant resident."

Prime smiled. "I hear you're on the couch."

Everyone's optics focused on Ironhide who shot a peeved optic at Ratchet then a nonchalant one at Prime. "You must be mistaken."

"No he's not," Ratchet said, his ire rising up again.

"Uh, Ratchet … our business? Here? In the open?" Ironhide said turning to give a panicked optic to his True One.

" **Now** you have qualms. You do know that Prime's ' **son** ' was slagged because of you, you big glitch. Actually, right now? I think **you all** can use a slaggin'."

"I said what I said to **defend you** , ya big yellow aft," Ironhide said shaking his head. "What kind of world is this when a mech can't stand up for his bond without getting it in the aft at some point down the road?"

Ratchet grinning in spite of himself leaned on an elbow and regarding him. "Is that a rhetorical question?"

Ironhide grinned and shrugged. "Whatever you say, Ratchet."

Ratchet smirked and shook his head. "Bumblebee is released from Medbay but I haven't told him about this mess. I thought I would leave it to you, ' **Dad** '."

Prime snorted. "I guess this is that birds and bumblebees conversation you have with younglings at some point," he said as the entire room groaned. Except Prowl. He smiled in spite of himself.

=0=In the enemy camp

Jase Daniels got off the phone with his father, a corporate business man whose own father was the current Majority Leader in the United States Senate. He had filled his dad in on the difficulties thus far and the information would go where it always went, through the spidery web of neocon media and into the mainstream. They had discussed a number of things that might be useful in his real mission, that is, the one he was given in private that had nothing to do with his official role. He was to make things difficult to the point where the Autobots would have to make concessions in response to staying on Earth further. Those concessions would be the technology, both commercial and military that they possessed and refused to share.

Intel-Martin had supplied protection for Daniels, nine mercenaries who had been in their employ for a long time and who were unafraid of jobs that were potentially dangerous or located in far flung difficult locations. They were also people of unsavory backgrounds who were paid immense sums to do the bidding of the company's interests and did without qualm, interests which also happened to include an intense desire for Autobot technology.

His father had consoled him reminding him that Daniels men always prevailed and that politics for enterprising youngsters like himself was always beckoning. He had walked to the window staring at the firing range where three Autobots were target practicing. It annoyed him that the range was this close to his quarters and the constant fire was irritating.

What freaks they were he thought. What arrogant overbearing tin cans. He wanted more information to use in his campaign and he considered the mole that they had placed here, the soldier that wanted a well paying career after his enlistment was up. The lowest paid mercenary in Daniels' employ made five times as much as the pay this soldier made in a year. To say it rankled was an understatement.

Daniels smirked watching as three Autobots, Sunstreaker, Bluestreak and Sideswipe fired on their targets one after another. He felt a rush as he considered how he would take them down. With that, he turned and walked back to his desk dialing his next contact.

=0=In the Teletraan Nexus room

Mirage sitting comfortably in a chair before the computer screen that he was using perked up. Daniels was making another phone call. He tapped a button and the computer began to record. He smiled as he routed the conversation to the case file that they were using to build the bigger picture of the security leak that had shown itself through Starscream's inadvertent misread of reality. Then he looked back at the screen to watch New Zealand rugby. A civilized game he considered in a civilized country played by civilized mechs. Truly a mech's game.

=0=Later that night, in the dark

"I didn't know you had a diary."

(Silence. Pause) "You didn't ask."

(Pause) "I suppose I'm in it."

(Pause) "I suppose you are."

"I also suppose you have some things to say about me right now that aren't exactly, uh, flattering."

(Smile and fierce optic) "Oh, count on it, Ironhide."

(Pause. Silence) "Ratchet?"

"What?"

"You sure you don't want company over there in that big old cold berth?"

(Pause. Suppressed chuckle) "What for? You don't think its a good time to merge."

"That was this morning."

(Pause. Furious review of the morning on internal screen) "This morning... and?"

(Pause, careful choice of words, sifting for anti-personnel potential) "Yes."

(Pause, parsing of comment as only a spouse or a diplomat can do, both of which Ratchet was) "Then you would spark merge. Now."

(Pause. Cursing of inadvertent misleading of bond down primrose path to the Pit) "I am open to negotiation."

"You just want off **the couch** , you slagger. I know you, Ironhide. You will drag on negotiations and by the time a **vorn** **has passed** , you will be recharging on the berth and I will be back at the beginning."

/... slag … / "Ratchet, we **can** talk."

"First, tell me why this isn't a good time to spark merge."

(Pause) "Because the base isn't as safe as it was. Because you won't be able to deploy. Because I want this to be right. This is the first time we ever got this far on this topic. I want it to be right."

(Pause. Long silence) "That was good, Ironhide. I applaud you."

He grinned, swallowing a chuckle. "Can I come over and snuggle?"

"No."

/... slag .../

=0=

#38: "Dear Diary"

=0=Ironhide

He sat on the metal bench out in front of the Autobot HQ watching as Silverbolt left to fly over Australia. His brothers sunning themselves on the tarmac nearby were going to fly over the tip of South America with him when he got back. Flurries of intel needed substantiating. He sat with a blank page open, the file marked "Ironhide's Diary" beckoning. The idea that Ratchet had a diary was interesting. He himself was a mech of few words and the idea of leaving them to posterity was a novel concept. He also figured that whatever Ratchet could do, so could he.

Thus the blank page.

He had scanned the internet and got the gist. His thoughts and feelings. He snorted. Right. He began: "It's hotter than the Pit today which makes it fine with me. Unlike some yellow aft slaggers, I can take a lot. Today, the soldiers are running around like idiots. Even the birds are sitting on trees. The humidity is about … a very high number. The weather forecast calls for thunderstorms and cooler weather. That should help the joggers. I don't suppose I will be sitting here tomorrow if it comes."

He reread his entry and closed the page. "There," he said to himself. "One down. Two can play at this game."

He sat satisfied and considered his moves for the evening. He was going to try and seduce Ratchet. He had seen a number of magazines in the N.E.S.T. Striker Office when he had gone there with Prowl over a matter pertaining to training. He had seen them through the window, joked about it with Prowl and forgotten about it. That is until Ratchet had doubled down. That he didn't know that Prowl had beaten him to the Cosmopolitan website didn't matter to Ironhide. He just needed to shake up his game.

An SUV drove past, a number of the new humans inside and they honked loudly, hooting out the windows. Ironhide watched them, his dark expression shadowing his light moment. He pinged Springer. 

:Springer:

:Slaggers are driving past the building and it doesn't look like they have a point:

:Thanks, Ironhide. I'm on it:

The big mech rose and walked toward the N.E.S.T. Striker HQ to shoot the slag with Lennox and Epps. Graham was on board Silverbolt and would be going out with the rest of the Aerialbots when the big jet came back. As he did, the SUV came roaring back from around a corner near the Aerialbot's designated hangars. He glanced their way and paused, turning to face them. They slowed, then sped up driving as fast as they could straight at Ironhide.

His sensors were already scanning them, calculations were already made as the SUV sped forward. Ironhide bracing himself for an collision leaned forward mentally preparing for impact. Out of the corner of his optics he could see the green and yellow of Springer as he moved forward leaping over a row of electrical transformers as he came around the corner of the Autobot HQ.

The sound of the roaring engine, the sound of mechs in the rec hall sitting, catching the sight transpiring before the open hangar doors were of no consequence to Ironhide. He was bracing for impact because he had already calculated that he couldn't get out of the way and they had no room in the space provided to stop safely. This is going to hurt, the slaggers, he thought as they hit him. A huge boom reverberated in the space between buildings and Ironhide began to topple. He reached out and braced himself instinctively falling away from the vehicle and as he did he felt Springer grab him. It broke the impact of his fall, the concrete coming up faster than he had anticipated.

The screech of brakes, the spin of tires and the unsheathing of weapons all around filled the air along with shouts from the N.E.S.T. Command Center and the soldiers, airmen and women who were outside. Everyone froze as the impact slammed into Ironhide's shins and they watched in horror as he began to fall. The blur of yellow and green, the almost impossible materialization of Springer at the back of Ironhide seemed to prevent a greater catastrophe than it appeared they might have.

Ironhide bellowed flinging his arms out to the side as the pain washed through him. He pushed up again instinctively seeking his attacker as he had in thousands of battles over the eons of his service. Energon covered the SUV, its shattered chassis flying off to one side spinning nearly fully as it landed and bounced, the doors flung open, window glass everywhere.

He lay back staring at the blue sky and as he did he saw Springer's face looking down at him as he reached to protect Ironhide from the broken shattered concrete below him. He could hear the emergency vehicles and their loud horns. He could feel them through the pavement, hear them as they came running but he didn't care. He just wanted to rise and smite his attackers with his fists until they were dust.

He lay on the ground marginally aware of the circle of Autobots that had formed around him weapons drawn, rage blazing from their optics. He only concentrated on what he could see when he saw Ratchet's face. Ratchet was there like he always was, his servos working as fast as they could taking care of his hurts. Ratchet was there with his love, his all encompassing love naked on his faceplates. He offlined his optics giving in to the pain and the nearness of Ratchet. He would be all right. Ratchet was there. He blinked open for a moment, puzzling that he could see Optimus, then he closed them again.

Optimus Prime was in the Ops Center when he heard the boom. Everyone froze and Prowl turning from the security monitor showing the outside in front of the complex, a look of astonishment on his faceplates dropped a datapad. "The SUV, it just ran into Ironhide at high speed."

As one they turned hurrying out of Ops Center joining the flow of mechs toward the doors as outside the spectacle was continuing. Moving at high speed, his optics filled with disbelief, Optimus saw Ironhide falling, Springer leaping to reach him, breaking a small portion of his fall. The SUV was airborne, spinning, landing with a jarring impact.

There were people on the other side of the open area frozen in horror and as they stood, Autobots, arms drawn and ready to fire formed a circle around Ironhide and Springer. Part of Optimus' processor was aware that Lennox and Epps were running as fast as they could and that military vehicles were coming with horns and lights blazing. 

He reached Ironhide kneeling down beside Springer and as he did he thought to comm Ratchet. As Prime started to do that he saw a yellow blur pass him and run around to the other side, kneeling and beginning to block the bleeding and other critical needs of Ironhide's intensely damaged legs.

Prime sat on his heels stunned into immobility at the insanity happening before him. Springer rising and moving, began to bring down the level of anger and to allow the military to come inside the circle to get the humans. Prime looked at the vehicle remembering a SUV slamming into him as well. That vehicle was going at highway speeds and so the damage was more decorative than deadly. This vehicle had to have been going at its top speed to do this much even in such a short space of travel. He sat and watched Ratchet, feeling at this moment the most intense anger he had felt in vorns.

Rising, he looked at the scene, the fact that there were no skid marks on the pavement from the SUV and that another black SUV was bearing down on them. It came to a screeching halt as Daniels leaped out moving toward the hulking form of Ironhide and the damaged SUV. Hound moved, throwing down his weapon on the bureaucrat halting him before he could come too far, the barrel of his gun nearly on top of the human's head.

Prime stepping over Ironhide's out flung arm crossed the space in no time standing over Daniels like some avenging god. He leaned down, rage pouring off him in waves and as he did he felt a servo on his shoulder. Glancing up, he saw Prowl's worried optics and rose slowly stepping back reluctantly, his optics never leaving Daniels' face.

Daniels shaken somewhat was not challenged. He knew Prime could kill him but he wasn't moved. "I want to see to my men," he said calling up to Prime who stood quaking silently with rage, Prowl's servo gripping his arm.

"At the hospital or the morgue," Prime said. "This is our area. You don't have permission to set one foot closer."

Daniels considered him, then turned moving over to where ambulances were parked and medics were coming and going, accessing the SUV because Springer made it so. The green and yellow mech stood at the edge of the wreck, his servo resting on the shoulder of Bumblebee, himself distraught. "Don't worry, youngling," he said quietly. "Hide is tough as they come."

Bee nodded shaking his head. "This is going to be a bad one isn't it?"

"Probably," Springer said watching as Prime showed the most anger he had seen in the stoic good natured mech in the entirety that he had known Prime. "Prime will take care of it. We just have to keep the peace. Go and talk to the twins. I'll go the other way. Be calm and we'll be fine, Bumblebee."

Bee looked up at Springer, the confidence on his faceplates infectious, then turned walking to where Sunny and Sideswipe stood seething, weapons drawn and moving in tight circles. Springer turned and walked to Prime pausing beside Prowl. "Prime, we need to move everyone back before shooting starts."

Prime turning, his anger unabated nodded. "Make it so," he said turning to move back to Ironhide. "Ratchet, we'll move him when you're ready."

Ratchet glancing up, his servos covered in energon nodded. "I need a stretcher and volunteers."

Prime rose and began to give orders, the mere movement of constructive action bringing the heat down in his processor. Mechs jumped, subspacing weapons to run quickly for Medbay. Just as quickly they came back bearing a stretcher. Waiting silently, they watched as Ratchet applied temporary pressure bandages to the broken energy lines of Ironhide's legs. Looking up, meeting Prime's anguished gaze, he nodded.

Turning, Prime directed moving Ironhide helping lift the big mech onto the stretcher. Then they turned and moved toward the hangar and Medbay beyond, Ratchet running ahead to be ready. Prime stood watching, a sense of disturbance in his spark that would take a lot of thought to quiet. He felt Prowl's servo in his and he squeezed it, glancing down at him. "It'll be all right. I want everyone inside and no one out here. I want Wheeljack to process this scene. I want facts at hand. I'm going to see about the humans. I think we have a fatality or two, Prowl. I don't know how they could live through that."

Prowl nodded and moved to the congregated Autobots squeezing Prime's servo hard as he walked away. He gave orders and mechs moved toward the hangar some of them walking backwards, firearms still pointed outward while others moved together in groups. In seconds they were gone inside and Prime relaxed slightly.

He turned staring at the swarm of people working on the SUV, one occupant already pulled out and covered with a sheet as two others were being lifted to be put on stretchers. He felt a senselessness inside, that such a stupid stunt should cost so much in lives and suffering. Then he felt the rap on his ped. He looked down and saw Lennox and Epps, both men standing by him, both men with expressions of wretchedness on their faces.

"Optimus, I don't know what to say," Lennox said shaking his head. "I don't know what to say."

Optimus at that moment felt the totality of his days, the burdens of his responsibility to his people, his culture, his way of life and his mechs. He felt the emotional impact of Prowl, of his love for him. He felt the pain of Ratchet once again putting Ironhide back together, hardly having a moment of distance between the horror of Denver and this equally senseless moment. He felt the huge regard he had for the two men and their companion, Niall Graham and he knew that in a short time he would be refocused and up to the challenges this posed.

But not now. 

He turned and looked down at the two of them. "I don't know either, William." Then he turned walking toward the hangar, disappearing inside. Standing in the doorway watching every movement and every one was Springer and Kup, the twins standing beside them glaring defiance at the entire world.

Lennox nearly in tears turned, regarding Epps. "We're family. I'm going to see about Ironhide."

Epps nodded and the two of them, their hearts pounding with unease, the first unease they had ever felt around the Autobots walked toward the door of the complex.

=0=

**Note:** I got an awesome reader e-mail that discussed the possibility of Ironhide being hurt by an SUV crash. I did more research and found most security SUV's are high quality cars such as Mercedes and Range Rovers that have high impact steel shells that can withstand fragmentation grenades and most of the weapons used in combat. The specs are intimidating. Most Mercedes, Range Rover or Escalade armored security cars can weigh fully loaded nearly eight tons considering specifications requested. Given that Ironhide is about 4+ metric tons, these cars reaching speeds of more than 150 miles per hour in a very short distance, there is the possibility of carnage. There will be more details but Wheeljack still has to check out the scene and tell Prime. :) Did I say readers are awesome? Thank you for your insights. It makes me better. -The management

=0=

#39: A brandnew turn of the screw

=0=Medbay

Ratchet stared at the mess wondering how a truck could fell a mech as stolid and powerful as Ironhide. Wheeljack would tell him. Bits and pieces had been bandied about and he considered none of it while he worked. Later, he would do what he could about understanding the senselessness of this event. The biggest focus was right here piecing Ironhide back together. Replacing some pieces of his shin plating and pounding out others would be his life for a few orns.

Turning, watching the monitors, he then began the tortuous process of taking off long segments of Ironhide's shin structure and rerouting temporarily his cydraulic lubricant feeds. He had washed off the energon, dirty oil splashes from the SUV, engine fluids and glass beads from the impact glass of the SUV windshield, the bits and pieces of the SUV's front end and underlying it was a number of very bad dents and a few broken plates. The plates had severed a lot of wiring and the long lines that fed energon throughout his body. That was the danger.

It had been a horrendous sight but as he worked he felt better. First Aid taking the plating and placing it under analysis for structural integrity found reason for hope. It could almost all be repaired with minimal replacements, something that would make recovery a lot faster. Having to create new structures for old ones took time on a planet without the resources they needed.

He worked at the lines and wires pulling things out and putting things in. It almost felt like weaving making the threads all appear as something else when the work was done. How many times he had done it for everyone let alone Ironhide, he couldn't count. He just did it one more time, his servos weaving magic and mobility for his big old mech. As he did, he didn't notice that Optimus Prime sat on a bench behind him, a look of weariness on his faceplates. Prowl silent and pensive stood with him, his arm around Prime's shoulders.

=0=At the entrance to the complex

They walked side-by-side toward the door and when they reached it they paused looking upward to the five Autobots that looked down at them. Epps and Lennox, their grief obvious nodded then walked forward. No one stopped them, no one said no. They disappeared inside.

"No one else," Sunstreaker said turning to look at Springer.

"Graham," Sideswipe said looking at his brother.

"Graham," Sunstreaker said, his expression feral. "No one else."

Sideswipe nodded.

=0=Inside

It was quiet, a murmur of electronic speech flowed over the top of them like a static buzz. No one was disturbed by their appearance, some nodding, others sitting together aggravated and confused. It was a long walk across the hangar weaving around mechs but they made it to the road and hugging the walls walked toward Medbay. They nearly got there when Jazz spotted them and reached down picking them up gently and walking to a room nearby closing the door behind them

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet, later

"Hey."

Ratchet looked up, his startled focus practically piercing Ironhide. He walked over from a work station where he was fashioning a part, checking Ironhide's feed lines and the screens overhead. "Hey."

'That hurt."

"I suspect it did," Ratchet said fussing with a spot on Ironhide's armor. "You are usually more agile."

"It sort of overtook me."

"I can see that," Ratchet said moving the blanket up a bit, fussing with it down the sides. He packed it around Ironhide giving him a warm cover to aid his pain and healing.

"I started a diary," Ironhide said disturbed by Ratchet's fidgety upset.

Ratchet paused and looked up at him with a grin. "You did."

"Yeah."

"I suppose I'm in it."

"You are."

"I suppose there are less than complimentary things about me," Ratchet said rubbing Ironhide's arm with his servo.

Ironhide smiled. "No."

They stared at each other quietly for a moment then Ratchet lowered his helm to lay it on Ironhide's broad chest. He slid his arm around Ironhide's body and felt the gentle touch of Ironhide's powerful servo on his back.

"Truce?" Ratchet said softly.

"Truce," Ironhide said. "No end?"

"No," Ratchet said rubbing his cheek against Ironhide's armor. "We aren't through negotiations yet."

"True," Ironhide said smiling. "We have to do all the dots and I's or something. Humans and their jargon."

Ratchet smiled. "Yeah. They are something aren't they."

"Right now, I can't say a good word about most of 'em," Ironhide said glancing down at Ratchet.

"I don't suppose you can."

It was silent a moment. Then they heard someone clearing their voice. Ratchet stood and looked down, his arms still around Ironhide. Ironhide turned his helm staring downward. Lennox and Epps stood together nervous and upset.

"Ratchet? Ironhide? Are you all right?" Lennox asked, his voice unsteady.

"Yes," Ironhide said glancing at Ratchet. "I'm sleeping with the doctor." He smiled. "Am I?"

Ratchet looked at him, a slight smile on his faceplates. "Negotiations, Ironhide."

He turned and looked at the two soldiers. "I'll get back to ya on that one."

For the first time since looking up to watch the confounding episode happen, Epps and Lennox smiled.

=0=Outside in the chaos

The medics worked feverishly cutting the doors and panels from the dashboard with the jaws of life. Pinned tightly into the cab, the engine pushed back until it could go no where else the two remaining passengers waited falling in and out of consciousness, already bearing the transfusion lines that would either save them or not.

One of the three was already dead, his body lying on the pavement covered in a sheet. The two men inside, neither of them Todd Baseman, the miscreant former resident of the Autobot brig, were in grievous condition. They were a man from France and the Foreign Legion and a man from Cincinnati who had made a career of security for hire. The Frenchman would die and the American would live, albeit in reduced circumstances.

Colonel Fulton, Commandant for the base stood quietly watching as his personnel did what they were trained to do. He looked at the pavement and saw there were no skid marks, no attempt to brake and from the degree of impact they were aiming for the Autobot they hit.

Fulton, no friend of mercenaries pondered the situation, then turned walking to the HQ to make his report to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Glenn Morshower, a former commandant of his from back in the day. He would have his forensics done by the book, the JAG office handle the inquiry and witnesses on the record as fast as he could. The jag off mercs had made a diplomatic incident by attempting to batter or perhaps kill an Autobot. With an aggravated stride he walked to his office to begin.

=0=Washington, D.C., at a function

He stood resplendent in his dress uniform, wine glass in hand as he talked to a group of congressmen and women. They were at a meet and greet for a new diplomatic venture in the Middle East and he was doing his bit. When an aide came to him and whispered in his ear, he made his regrets and left to take the phone. The congressmen and women watched him speculating together what emergency would be calling their top soldier away.

He took the phone call in an office room on an encrypted line. When he was finished, he was as livid as he could possibly be. Turning, issuing orders to his aide, Glenn Morshower walked back into the party, put on his game face and made nice.

=0=At the tarmac in Diego Garcia

Niall Graham stepped off Silverbolt, tech specialists following and walked to the hangar to make a check in call. Before he reached the door, he had found out a number of things...

1.) A security SUV driven by the mercs had crashed into Ironhide in a demented alcohol-infused game of chicken,

2.) two of them had lost and one was hanging on,

3.) Ironhide had injuries, again, to his legs,

4.) the Autobots were in lock down and no one was allowed inside,

5.) General Morshower was going to have a conference call in the morning about the whole thing,

6.) Jase Daniels was holed up in the Transient Officer's Quarters with his mercs making phone calls to his family back in Washington, D.C.,

7.) Lennox and Epps had gone into the Autobot hangar and hadn't come out,

8.) everyone was deeply on edge.

He commandeered a jeep and drove like a maniac to the Autobot Complex as fast as he could.

=0=TBC

#40: "Stand Off."

=0=The Senior Autobot Staff Meeting, late that night

Prime sat staring at the empty place where Ironhide had always sat. He had always been his right-servo mech, the one who had been his mentor when the Matrix had inexplicably chosen him to be the new Prime. Ironhide, his gaze appraising and critical had led him through the process of transforming from a worker to a warrior. He had shown him his weapons, picking them out as most appropriate, trained him to use them and had been his fountain of knowledge, his entrance into the world of war and fighting that had allowed him to become the greatest fighting Prime in their people's history.

He had known nothing and he hadn't hidden his lack of knowledge, something that Ironhide had respected in him from the start. Over the eons, over the battlefields, meetings and split haired decisions of their lifetime together he had come to think of the big black mech as a brother. Ironhide was his brother in all but name. And with Ironhide had come Ratchet, the two pairing up when he had ascended to the Primeship.

They were comical and utterly, completely devoted. They were devoted to each other, to the Autobots, the Cause and to Prime. That was his platform, the basis upon which he stood, Ironhide, Ratchet and the others. On their shoulders he could do what he had to do ... save them, lead them, inspire them. And in return he was inspired too. Without Ironhide's prank, his defense of Ratchet, he would still be longing for Prowl. He shook his head gazing from the empty seat to the others around him. "Ratchet, please update about Ironhide."

Ratchet nodded twining his digits together as he leaned on his elbow, fatigue clear on his face plates. "He's going to be fine in a cycle or two. I had to remove his shin assemblies and reroute his cydraulics. There was extensive damage in his energon lines making the wound look worse than it turned out to be, thank Primus. I had to replace a lot of wiring and we are finishing up reshaping his plates. Some of them were broken but they were spidery breakages. Wheeljack has them almost repaired and I will be reattaching most of them tomorrow. A few small pieces had to be remade, most of them simplistic such as his right rear locking clamp and both of his reserve power pods below his knee assemblies. I re-fed his energon deficiencies and put him into repair stasis mode. By tomorrow, he will be arguing to get up but he won't be released. Part of the problem was that he wasn't 100% from Denver before this happened. Right now, he will be returned to light duty in three cycles and back on his peds for normal duty in a decacycle."

Prime nodded with relief clear on his face plates. "I'm glad. If you need back up in keeping him confined call on me." He smiled and so did Ratchet who sat back wearily.

"Prime, I don't get it. Why did they do this and how did they hurt him like this? He's a tough old mech," Ratchet said remembering the damage clearly. "But he was just crossing the tarmac to go to N.E.S.T. HQ. Why?"

"I talked to Colonel Fulton," Prime said remembering the conversation that morning after the incident.

===In the N.E.S.T. Administrative hangar at the speaking platform

Colonel Fulton had never seen Optimus Prime angry. He had been forceful about a point but usually he was calm and patient listening to all points of view before making his own. He also if feeling his remarks trumping others would again calmly explain his position once more. But today he was clearly angry and needful of information. "I need to understand what happened, why it happened and what is going to come next, Colonel," he said, his deep baritone modulated and polite but clearly expressing his emotional state of mind.

"You and me both, Optimus. I am ordering an immediate investigation into the matter. The autopsies on the two dead men will be included. If there is impairment on their part due to substance abuse, that will be a part of the report."

"There were no skid marks, no attempt to stop," Prime remarked, the idea of it still confusing him. "They had to have driven into Ironhide deliberately but for what purpose?"

"I can't speak for them but when I was a kid it was considered a sport to play chicken, to drive at someone else in a vehicle with your own to see who would swerve first."

"Chicken," Prime replied, a dozen references flashing past his processor as they poured forth from the internet. "All this death and consternation because of a game."

Fulton shook his head. "I know," he said slightly embarrassed at his own memories of playing Russian roulette with his pickup in Texas as a youth. "We will depose the survivor as soon as we can but we are not having any cooperation from Daniels. Intel-Martin is demanding an explanation as well."

Prime's expression hardened. "Let them."

They discussed the exchange of information and the newly issued rules in which access to portions of the base were curtailed, vehicles had to have a purpose and civilian activities were cut back severely. Lastly and most of all, Fulton felt when they were finished that he had preserved at least for the base and the army the relationship they had with the Autobots.

===The staff meeting

"What a stupid idiotic aft-headed thing to do," Ratchet said, his offense raging. "They hurt Ironhide because of a prank? What is it with pranks like this?"

It was silent a moment. Then Wheeljack came in and took his seat leaning forward toward Ratchet. "I finished, Ratchet. You can re-attach tomorrow."

Ratchet relaxed nodding. "Thank you, 'Jack."

"Wheeljack, have you started on the investigation?" Prime asked.

"Yes sir," Wheeljack replied. "I had to finish the refits for Ironhide but I also scanned the scene, the wreckage of the SUV before they towed it away and other factors."

"What about the SUV? How did it do so much harm to Ironhide?" Ratchet asked. "Or do you know yet?"

"I am still analyzing it but this was no normal SUV. This is a special rebuild that was done by a specialist firm in Texas. They make a number of vehicles into armored cars and sell them to governments, corporations and private individuals. The VIN number tells me that it is owned by Intel-Martin, no surprise there. It has a number of features that make it rather surprisingly lethal in the right set of circumstances."

"I would like a detailed report as soon as you can, Wheeljack," Prime said. "Jazz, you said you talked to Epps and Lennox."

"They are pretty shook up, Optimus," Jazz replied. "They are no friends of the mercs and feel as badly as they can be. They hope the relationship won't be harmed by this. They're awfully fond of Ironhide."

"Ironhide likes them too," Ratchet said shaking his head.

"That is our main goal, to preserve the relationship. What we have to do is minimize contact with these people," Prime began. "I want chapter and verse on Daniels, his family, their friends and associates as well as Intel-Martin. We better know the enemy before we regret it." He sat back glancing at Prowl's worried expression. "I would say we already do."

=0=Starscream

He stood on the deck of the Nemesis, a derelict wreck on a cold uninhabited moon that orbited Jupiter. He paced, considering the new information that flowed through their computer system an orn ago. The humans were idiots. They were siphoning their people's collected conversations and correspondence storing it piecemeal in computers without any real plan to sift it, use it or even dump it. That part was of no consequence. What was astonishing to him was the reality of doing it through a central nexus and storing it as raw data in vast computer centers in one location. The potential for hacking and researching for targets of opportunity were limitless to someone with more than their insect mentality.

They were strange and foolish. They didn't protect their systems and societies very well. He had hacked their information systems on a day he was very bored and found a bonanza of interesting information. Diego Garcia was home base for the Autobots who were growing stronger with every new addition from space. Prime had called for them, he had made treaties and pacts getting a home and energy source for his people in exchange for hunting him and his faction.

It almost made him want to leave. That he was here, that he was working hard to bring down the insect population for the pleasure of it, that was almost worth sacrificing to see the Autobots without a good excuse to stay on that blue mud ball.

But he was still here, Megatron was still missing and the insult to their honor was an ever present wound. They had defeated the Decepticons twice and word was trickling out, making its way back to the myriad worlds that were part of their dominion. It would not do for others to find out that they could be defeated. The blow back was too devastating and the insult to his pride and sense of honor humiliating.

He had found the Intel-Martin bulletin board when they were seeking a way to smuggle Cybertronian technology to gangs, some of whom were agents in the food chain for legitimate companies. He had nearly dismissed it as inconsequential until a tag line in its corporate registry spoke to Autobot content. He had digested the information, thought about it a while and found a hook that he could sink into Prime's spark.

Optimus Prime not only was bonded, he had younglings of his own. That the bond mate he had taken was the infernal Wrecker Springer was almost as amazing to him as the knowledge that Bumblebee, an infernal mini-con was his sparkling. Their sparkling.

It was obviously classified information or he would have known about it before. Prime must be feeling secure he thought to bring it into the open. He would know that any family members of his would become targets. What a fool the Autobot was Starscream considered.

He had discussed the information with himself deciding to strike at every level he could, putting his enemy off balance and making him watch every step he took. He had dispatched Barricade to maim Bumblebee, getting satisfaction for the blood-thirsty predator over a prior humiliation. Barricade wanted to kill the mini-con but Starscream forbade it. In due time he considered as he paced. In due time.

=0=Medbay

He stood in the low lighting watching the screens to see how well Ironhide's self repair units were doing. Well it seemed. Well and good. Turning, squeezing Ironhide's servo, Ratchet walked to the empty med berth nearby and climbed on relaxing into recharge almost immediately.

=0=Nearby

Jase Daniels stood on the patio, the moon overhead throwing a bright illumination to the world all around him. He smoked his cigarette, sipping a beer and thought about his phone calls and the anger at the other end of the line. He was irritated that he was being blamed for the drunken stupidity of his men. Make that Intel-Martin's men. He felt the urge of vengeance well up then tamped it down. Vengeance made you do stupid things. No, he was going to succeed. Then he would move on. He would move up. There was a Senate seat out there with his name on it. This was the path to that life, succeeding here.

He dropped the cigarette and ground it out. Looking up at the moon, again noting that not so far away were beings that had seen more moons than he ever would. Aliens. There were large metallic aliens on this base, on this planet, in the universe. It made him wonder about God. It made him wonder about his mission. But it didn't make him afraid. Oddly enough, he wasn't afraid.

He turned and walked inside, the door slamming behind him.

=0=TBC

2010 (11)

 

 


	6. Chapters 41-50

=0=

 

#41: “In praise of yellow aft slaggers.”

 

=0=Medbay, mid-afternoon, the next day

 "Ratchet."

 "I'm busy.”

 "Ratchet?"

"What?"

"I want to talk to you. I want to see your pretty optics when I speak."

Pause.

"Ratchet?"

Silence.

/...slag.../ **"RATCHET! I HAVE A … A TERRIBLE PAIN!"**

The sound of peds running and a yellow streak bursting from around the corner broke the silence of Medbay. When Ratchet stopped before Ironhide, optics surging with fright Ironhide had the good grace to feel bad.

Then he had a pain.

"You punched me!"

"You deserved it, you slagger! What the **FRAG** are you doing saying something like that to me when I pasted your carcass back together twice in less than a month? I should give you something worse to whine about but then **I'D HAVE TO PUT YOU BACK TOGETHER AGAIN!"**

A huffing yellow aft medico mumbling to himself left the room while Ironhide rubbing his servo from where he was rapped lay his helm back and stared at the ceiling. "Ratchet."

The sound of peds marching down the corridor to walk into Medbay only put a small crimp in his audacity. Ironhide had the time and opportunity to be a spectacular aft and he was determined to use them. Anything was fair in love and war. He wanted out of the Medbay. Ratchet marched to the medberth, parked his servos on his hip assemblies and glared. He glared that glare that Dared Not Speak Its Name. " **WHAT**!"

Ironhide quashing a comedic retort smiled. "How about finishing up those negotiations? I've got the time."

"You think I do?" Ratchet said relaxing a tiny bit as he crossed his arms over his chassis.

"Why not? You run this place. Delegate."

Ratchet felt a smirk forming on his face plates. He quashed it ruthlessly moving to lean against the medberth. He reached out tracing the glyphs along Ironhide's arm, the ones that spoke about his family and his home in Praxus, a home that no longer existed. "So you want to negotiate?"

Ironhide looked at Ratchet, wariness in every molecule of his being. "You want an end to the war. I want too also. You need a good 'face. **I** sure need one."

"You saying I'm what? **Cranky**?" Hard blue optics peered down into his.

"I'm saying ..." /... what the slag **am** I saying?.../ "I just think its about time you and I made peace."

"And then what, Ironhide?" Ratchet said leaning down to nuzzle Ironhide's chin. He kissed a line along Ironhide's jaw, then rose tracing a digit along Ironhide's finials.

The flow of sensations that hit Ironhide In The Place Where Nothing Has Been Happening For A While made him swallow. "I thought that you and me could … get intimate."

Something in Ratchet purred, something that was weak willed and benevolent took those words and hugged them like the fuzzy kittens they were. Something in him wanted to throw Ironhide down and have its way. But then the something that was polished into a hardness that even diamonds couldn't trump, that part of him that had sparred with Ironhide for a zillion years asserted itself. "What are you going to give me?"

A smirk formed on Ironhide's lips and his optics glowed with humor. "A damned fine shag."

pause. access. shag, verb. download. access terminated.

Ratchet grinned at Ironhide. "You've been hanging out with Graham too much."

"And you look tense. I think I have the cure for that," Ironhide said kissing Ratchet's servo. He kissed up Ratchet's arm then back down again, his twinkling optics and waggling optic ridges almost, **ALMOST** making the medic laugh aloud. He merely redirected the outburst to a file in his cybertronic brain stem. Somewhere in Ratchet's helm a good laugh was going on but it never reached his lips.

"You broke a lot of superstructure. You aren't in any shape for a shag or a frag or any other combination thereof."

"I'm a danger mech, Ratchet. We take a lickin' and keep on tickin'."

pause. Access. lickin', tickin'. download. access terminated.

Ratchet smirked. "Is that so."

"Damned straight."

Nothing.

"Hoo-ah?"

Nothing.

"Oh **please** , Ratchet. Have some mercy here. **I'm going off my processor**."

Ratchet leaned down and kissed Ironhide stilling his whining. He stood back up glancing at the screens above Ironhide. "You are such a little sparkling."

Silence.

"I never said I didn't want a sparkling. We even decided on it being a mech. And the color. Don't forget he's black."

"You said red."

"I had a dream once, Ratchet that I was a red van and talked like a …" access. Regional accents, US. acquire. access terminated. "Like a dumb aft."

"A red van?" Ratchet said looking disgusted. "I don't think I would have dated you if you were a van, Ironhide. I have my image to think of."

"You were in the dream and you were a really sexy medic. White with red servos and a gray chevron on your helm. You had red crosses on your chassis and I thought you were one sexy alt vehicle."

"You saw this in a dream? Were you over energized?"

"Sober as Prime," Ironhide said.

"Did we 'face? In your dream? In that alt mode? I mean Ironhide, a **van**? Was it a mini van?" Rachet said folding his arms and leaning against the medberth.

"Do you really think this chassis can form a mini-van?" Ironhide said with a frown.

"I don't know. I'm not aroused by a mom car."

"You had to see it. I was a mech's mech," Ironhide said smiling. " **You** thought I was sexy."

"I did?" Ratchet said smiling. "What the **frag** was wrong with me?" He chuckled. "You know I like my mechs on the big side."

Ironhide smirked. "And they don't come bigger than me, Ratch."

"Prime," Ratchet began. "Then there's Springer, Ultra Magnus and you can't forget Omega Supreme."

Ironhide frowned, faking extreme upset. "Here I am pouring out my dreams to you and you're slagging me."

"Ah," Ratchet said faking sympathy patted Ironhide's servos. "There, there. I'm not bonded with them although they are pretty sexy."

"Prime and Magnus are only three feet taller than me and I'm the same height as Springer."

"He is rather sexy, Springer," Ratchet said smirking. "He is after all called … Springer."

Ironhide couldn't hide his consternation. "So you're looking at other mechs are ya?"

"I'm bonded, Ironhide. Not dead," Ratchet said leaning down to kiss Ironhide's pouty lips. "You don't look at other mechs or femmes? Even in your dream?"

"I think I was having an affair with Chromia. And Arcee too maybe. I can't remember," Ironhide said frowning slightly.

"You're a femme chaser then," Ratchet said moving to sit on the edge of the berth.

"In my dreams," Ironhide said, "but I spent a lot of time with you. I think you were really good lookin', Ratchet. White looks good on you."

"I'll remember that next time I'm in your dreams," Ratchet said, smirking.

They looked at each other content to just sit together.

"You're not going to let me out of here."

"No."

"I'll raise the wrath of Unicron if you don't."

"I have a new wrench."

"You are one violent old fragger."

"I learned from the master."

"You did. Ratchet?"

"Yes, Ironhide?"

He glanced here and there, then he looked at Ratchet. "I love you."

Ratchet looked at him feeling the surge of his love and appreciation rising through their bond. His spark squeezed and he surged back to Ironhide. "I love you back, Ironhide."

It was silent a moment.

"Ratchet?"

"What, Ironhide?"

"When I get out of here?"

"Yes?"

"Do I get to sleep on the berth with ya?"

Long pause. Smirk and a shake of the helm. "We'll see."

Ratchet got up and walked to the lab leaving Ironhide alone. He lay on the berth, a smirk growing on his face plates. /... putty in my hands … you yellow aft slagger.../

=0=

 

#42: The Investigation

 

=0=Epps and Lennox

They gave their testimony explaining that they were walking between the hangars and had a clear view of the SUV as it careened around the corner, turning hard enough to throw a spray of dirt into the air. They paused watching as the three men inside hooted and hollered. Then they saw it accelerate and drive off at top speed careening around the corner again and back across the tarmac in front of the Autobot HQ. They ran hurrying to the corner, dread in their heart for the challenge it obviously was to the Autobots themselves. As they ran they had almost reached the corner when the collision rang out, the sound echoing all over the area.

They were able to ascertain the following facts:

1\. They did not see the actual collision but they did see Ironhide fall on his back, arms flung out and Springer sliding in to catch his helm.

2\. They did not see the car spin in the air but saw it land in a bouncing heap, the mercs inside flying around due to the event.

3\. They said they saw Ironhide raise up roaring with rage, then fall back again, Springer holding him down with a servo. They said that everyone froze for a moment, then everyone ran outside including more than 20 Autobots, arms drawn as they circled Ironhide.

4\. They saw the scene both during and after the wreckage and injured were pulled away. There were no skid marks, no indication in physical evidence that the driver tried to stop or swerve. Ironhide had the right away at the moment and the driver ignored a pedestrian crossing an open space with pedestrian regulations for drivers well posted and observed base wide.

5\. It was their belief that the driver and passengers appeared to be impaired and that they were acting in an irresponsible manner behind the wheel of a vehicle that was unique in design and use, therefore making it even more imperative that care be taken in operating it.

They had separate depositions and left walking outside to stand in the mid-afternoon sun together. Graham who had not been in Diego at the time turned staring at the flight line nearby. Parked in their usual spaces recharging, he thought about the Aerialbots. "Do you suppose the Aerialbots saw what happened?"

Lennox looked down the common area to the field beyond where jets were parked close to each other. "Silverbolt wasn't here but the other three … they had a straight on shot of the whole thing."

They stood a moment, then started toward them. The sun was glinting off their alt forms. They were lethal and beautiful. They stood a moment uncertainly, then Epps walked up to one of the two F-15 Strike Eagles and tapped on the gear strut. Nothing happened. Then he did it again. As they waited, a transformation sound occurred and they turned seeing a large Autobot kneeling down staring at them. It was huge, black, red and white and stared at them curiously. "May I be of help?" it asked.

They looked at him, then the jet they were trying to awaken, then back again. Lennox swallowed. "This jet is … uh, just a jet isn't it."

The Aerialbot smiled. "Yes."

They stared at each other feeling slightly foolish, then they turned and looked up at the bot before him. "I am Will Lennox and this is Bobby Epps and Niall Graham."

The bot nodded. "You are N.E.S.T soldiers."

They nodded.

"You are the ones that aren't idiots. Like those humans that drove into Ironhide," he said.

"You saw that?" Epps asked.

"We saw it. I saw it the best," the bot said. "I am Sky Dive."

They nodded. "I was wondering if you could tell what you saw to the investigators," Graham asked. "We think the more individuals that can say what happened the less likely the company they work for will be able to make trouble here."

"If Prime wants me to, I will," Sky Dive said. He considered them. "Why did he do that?"

Epps shrugged. "Because he was a fool and had no respect."

Sky Dive nodded. "I will tell Prime that you asked."

They nodded and the big bot rose, turning to walk toward the Autobot complex.

"It never gets old," Epps said staring at the retreating figure. The others only nodded.

=0=Medbay

He stood holding up one leg. Ratchet squatted on his peds, his optics staring intently at Ironhide's rear locking clamp.

"Say when, Ratchet."

"I will."

"Now?" he asked hopefully.

"No."

=0=Jazz and Mirage

"Look at this," Jazz said pulling up a number of e-mails. "It appears that our mole is a soldier and they work in the Administrative building."

Mirage nodded. "Should I go eavesdrop?"

"I think it would be a good idea," Jazz said scrolling through a long list of e-mails. Mirage was almost to the door when Jazz called out for him to come back. He did and sat again waiting. "Look at this, Mirage."

He read the e-mail and smiled. "High-Flyer," he said shaking his head. "Our mole is corresponding with High-Flyer directly now."

=0=Medbay

"Can I go **now**?"

" **No**."

=0=Mirage and Jazz

A screen showing the routing of electronic correspondence glowed with a red line tracing the path of the mole's emails through any number of servers ending up at the First-Strike-Warriors bulletin board at the HQ of Intel-Martin. It also showed an anonymous e-mailer who was using a web-based temp account with a disposable email. A search of that server showed that High-Flyer was using it as their primary account, sending emails to the bulletin board and now Jazz found directly to the mole by a convoluted but essentially untraceable ghost account at Intel-Martin.

"Screamer has changed his tactic. He isn't waiting for the mole to post on the bulletin board. He's using direct contact to get what he wants."

"Who would write to an anonymous e-mailer if you were a deep down mole in an organization with rules against such activity like the U.S. Military?" Mirage mused.

"An anonymous e-mailer who was using someone else's account and posing as them," Jazz replied grinning. "Check out who Starscream is posing as."

Mirage followed the line from Intel-Martin where it began and when it dead ended into the anonymous account, the name brought a smile. "William Kent, President and CEO of Intel-Martin."

"Screamer is accessing his account to ghost messages out through the Intel-Martin servers but he has an intercept on any incoming from the mole so that it reaches his anonymous account and never shows up in the Intel-Martin logins and databases," Jazz said. "With this system as high tech as they think it is it didn't take much for Starscream to re-route his own messages and the replies. Kent wouldn't know it was happening and there would be no traceable evidence left behind. At least as far as their level of technology will find."

"Let's open his account and check it out," Mirage said. "Of course, you can hack it so Starscream won't know," he asked glancing at Jazz pointedly.

"Piece of cake," Jazz said with a chuckle.

=0=Medbay

"Sit down."

"I have. For orns."

"A breem or two more won't hurt."

"It will."

"Big sparkling."

"Let me outa here, you slagger. **I have to be free.** "

"Big femme."

"You can't keep me cooped up. **I was born to be wild.** "

"You were born to be wild? Since when?"

Pause. "Well, I was before I bonded with you, you yellow aft slagger."

"Bonding with me was the best thing you ever did, you big heap of slag."

"Don't confuse the issue. You know you got the best of the deal when I agreed to bond with you, Ratchet."

"Oh really. How did that come to your addled processor? Who else would put up with you, you big aft?"

Pause.

"Well?"

"I'm thinking."

=0=Wheeljack and Perceptor

"There are no skid marks. There is no attempt to try and stop. They aimed at him and they hit him."

"I've been doing research, 'Jack, on collisions and it would appear impairment by artificial means is a big, if not the biggest factor in the greatest percentage of crashes and fatalities."

"They were drunk," Wheeljack said smiling at his more precise and more scholarly friend. "Prime told me about a game called 'chicken'."

"I will look that up."

"Thank you, Perceptor. Now take a look at the construction of this vehicle. It has a steel shell that fits over the entire body of the vehicle. It has a 382 horsepower engine and can exceed 200 miles per hour. It was designed to protect the passengers and so getaway speed is essential. Mercedes Benz builds fast acceleration and speed into their cars as a stock item. This car was boosted in all areas.

"It has firewalls and the capacity to defeat anti-personnel grenades and high powered rifle fire earning it a 'full metal jacket' rating, apparently the highest for armored cars. It is hardened both above and below, armored in the wheel wells, roof and floor. There are side bars which aid in protection but also add weight and brace the frame when it hits something. Everything is protected from fuel tanks, batteries and glass. All in all, it is a weapon used in the right manner. And it weighs nearly eight tons with its adapted features."

"It was going at least 100 miles per hour and perhaps more," Perceptor said. "It is difficult to be precise because there were no road marks to use in calculations but I would say 100-110 miles per hour at collision. Megatron weighs nearly six tons. This truck weighed more than Megatron at nearly eight. It was a fortuitous set of circumstances that toppled Ironhide. Interesting."

"Indeed," Wheeljack said in agreement.

=0=Medbay

"Well?"

"I'm still thinking."

Ratchet grinned looking at Ironhide as he so cutely grasped at straws. "You are the biggest sparkling I ever saw."

"You letting me out of here?" he asked grinning in spite of himself.

"I should leave you here for the entertainment value but I will let you out. However … you are off duty for a decaorn and I won't be swayed."

"Not even by The Sexy?" Ironhide said rising and grinning as he pulled Ratchet into his arms.

Ratchet smirked slipping his arms around Ironhide's shoulders. "You think you're a real lothario."

pause. access. lothario, noun. acquire. access terminated.

"Good enough term, if a little stupid sounding to me," he said leaning in to nibble on Ratchet's neck.

Ratchet let him, the attention long overdue then he pushed back grinning at Ironhide. "Negotiations are not complete. There are also the penalties to be exacted for getting paint all over me and breaking the rules of no 'facing during wartime. And I suppose I can think of a few other things if I try."

"Go ahead. You know I win in the end."

"Says you?"

"Says me," he said leaning in to kiss Ratchet hard on the mouth. "I'm going out there and cut a wide swath. See ya later." With that, he turned and swaggered toward the door.

Ratchet watched him then called out. "Hey, lothario."

"What?" he asked pausing in the doorway to look back, a grin of great triumph on his face plates.

"No one is allowed out of the building. Prime's orders."

"Slag."

=0=

 

#43: “Home is ... over there.”

 

=0=In the conference room off Ops Center, later that afternoon

They stood huddled around the table looking at the plans that Prime had laid out. He had called the senior Autobots to the meeting finally deciding in light of all that was happening that it was time to discuss what he had come to see as the only solution to their tenuous residence on Earth.

Perceptor and Wheeljack were speechless as they stood together perusing the schematics of Prime's dream. Prowl stood beside Prime watching and waiting for questions. He had been over the entire format three times that morning alone and he was ready with counter arguments if there were any.

There weren't.

Ironhide musing over the step-by-step process involved glanced at Prime who was sitting in a chair silently watching. "You are going to need a few scouting parties. I think a review of sites is in order. Even though you picked some good places, no one has been there to look things over yet."

Prime agreed. "We will send out scientific teams with security to explore the feasibility of the sites I have chosen. If they don't meet our needs, we can then go from there."

"Then we better get going," Wheeljack said smiling at Prime. "This is going to be a real challenge. Our people will have a place to come. We can be a people again."

The comment gave everyone pause then they bent their heads together working out the plan for exploration, site identification for resources they could use and the effort they would have to expend to make sure no humans got even an accidental heads up on what they were going to do.

=0=Medbay, a little later

"And that is what Prime wants to do," Ironhide explained.

Ratchet himself unable to go to the meeting due to a taped deposition about Ironhide's injuries nodded. "That would be almost too much to hope for, Ironhide. Think of it. Our sparkling could be the first sparkling born there. You would make the history books."

Ironhide snorted. "I see you're still in your delusional phase."

"A mech can try." Ratchet smiled and crossed his arms looking at Ironhide with a calculating expression. "You know, you haven't 'faced for more than 60 cycles. Two months as the humans say. How's that working out for you?"

"I'm managing." Ironhide smirked. "You know, I've gone longer than that during the fall of Iacon."

"We need to hold negotiations tonight."

"You're wearing down?" Ironhide asked with a snort.

"No," Ratchet said moving closer to Ironhide giving him a smoldering optic. "Prime's plans change everything."

For a moment Ironhide basked in Ratchet's smoldering optic then he stepped back, wary as ever. "You can give me your gimlet eye, Ratchet but it won't change a thing."

pause. Access. Gimlet, ?. Beep. Warning... access shutting down...

"Okay, give me a clue here. Gimlet as in a drink? As in surface-to-air missile? Or am I to take it that you just referred to my optic as a drill that makes tiny little holes?"

Ironhide, his own optics twirling paused. "I heard a soldier refer to someone as having a gimlet eye."

"A gimlet eye," Ratchet referred quashing a smirk. "You hang out with the soldiers too much."

"Well considering you put a padlock on your privates, it makes it hard to hang out with you."

"So you only want me for my chassis?" Ratchet asked feigning hurt and casting a gimlet optic at his big hulking Only One.

"And a few other parts too," Ironhide said with a smirk. "Not that I can really remember them. Maybe I better borrow one of your med pads and catch up on such things."

"I would prefer to show you," Ratchet said slipping his arms around Ironhide's neck to lean in for a kiss. They kissed a moment, Ironhide moving forward to press Ratchet into the wall.

"I would too," He said giving Ratchet his own gimlet optic. "How about you and me making The Sexy and calling it a good faith gesture to future negotiations?"

"How about you and me making a sparkling. Now."

Ironhide paused looking closely at Ratchet's face plates, looking for the tel. "Now?"

"Now."

"Negotiations..."

"Can be had afterward."

Pause.

"Ratchet, I have to ask something."

"Ask." (Kiss)

"Well, you have this idea..."

"Yes?" (Kiss. Kiss)

"That I would carry."

Pause.

"Continue."

"I don't mind carrying..."

**"WHAT!"** Two **BIG** gimlet optics fixed on two optics that suddenly lost the will to live.

" **Ratchet**!" Ironhide's voice disappeared under a nearly five ton yellow hug as Ratchet grabbed him squeezing so hard he could almost feel the impressions of digits on his helm. Ratchet kissed him deeply and smiled. "I'll get the berth ready. Come right away, Ironhide."

With that, Ratchet turned and ran out the door of the Medbay. Ironhide mentally counting his fingers turned and looked at the door, the one that led to He Who Must Be Avoided At All Cost Now and finally finished his sentence. "... a sparkling after you have it."

He shuddered. Life had taken a nose dive and he was being dragged by a ped directly into the Pit.

"Slag."

=0=On the way to his quarters

"Hey, Ironhide!"

He turned and waited as Jazz caught up with him. "What's up with Ratchet?"

A wary optic fastened on Jazz. "What do you mean?"

"He was … bounding … hopping and saying 'I win! I win!" Jazz smiled. "What exactly did he win?"

Ironhide shifting from ped to ped stared at Jazz with optics as big as dinner plates. "Nothing. I don't know. Don't ask me. I don't know nothing about bond mates. I don't know nothing about nothing." Then he turned and walked as fast as he could to his quarters.

=0=In the rec room

"I saw Ratchet practically doing cartwheels down the hallway just now," Jazz said sitting with the twins and Hound.

"I don't know what it means," Hound said shaking his head. "Sometimes those two scare me."

=0=In the hallway to the arsenal

"Did you hear about Ratchet? He ran to his room screaming. I think he's lost his mind at last. Ironhide would do that to a mech."

"Really? I thought they were crazy for each other."

"I think they're just crazy."

=0=Near the hangar door to the complex

"Here's your energon. Did you hear that Ironhide made Ratchet cry? He ran down to their quarters."

"What? I don't believe that."

"Believe it. Someone who saw him said they saw it. Real tears."

=0=In the Ops Center

"What?"

"Yes."

"Oh no. Ironhide is going to die? I thought his injuries weren't that awful."

"Ratchet was crying. He ran through the hall and barricaded himself into his quarters. Prime is as low as it gets."

=0=Outside Ops Center

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Sorry?" -Prime

"Yes. My condolences. I just found out."

"Found out? Condolences?" -Prime

I have to go. I can't talk."

"What?" -Prime

=0=In the hallway near to the indoor workout space

"I don't know what we're going to do. When a bond mate goes, the other follows."

"This is terrible. Think about it. No doctor, no weapons specialist." -appalling angst

"I wonder what that means to the seniority list?" -seething ambition

=0=In Prowl's office

"I don't know. I was just told. What are they talking about?" -Prime

"I don't know. I'll ask." -Prowl

=0=In the hallway

"Jazz, what is going on?"

"What?"

=0=Ironhide outside Ironhide and Ratchet's quarters

"Hide? I'm so sorry?"

"About what?" -Ironhide

"Yeah. We didn't know. I don't know what to say. But I want you to know you aren't alone."

"What?" -Ironhide

"I won't keep you. I understand that time is short. But remember, you will never be forgotten."

"What?" -Ironhide.

=0=Walking to the rec room

"I don't understand a thing today." -Prime

"I am sure there's a logical reason for all of this." -Prowl

=0=Outside Ironhide and Ratchet's quarters

He paused fearing to open the door and fearing not to as well. The crazy was as deep outside as he was sure it was inside. He had no home to go to no matter which direction he turned.

And he turned.

At the end of the corridor standing in a quiet knot five Autobots stared at him, their face plates betraying intense emotion. One of them raised his servo and waved gently at him. He paused then raised his own servo waving back. For a moment, he was immobile then without a backward glance, his processor spinning, he opened the door and stepped inside preferring the Doom of Ratchet to the dumb outside the door.

=0=

 

#44: “So ... what about it?”

 

=0=In Prowl's Office

Prime sat on Prowl's chair staring at the door. Prowl had gone ahead seeking clarification to the wild rumors of Ratchet's insanity and Ironhide's impending death. It had made his processor spin and so as not to receive any more condolences for the imminent passing of his oldest friend he sat in the chair in a quiet room during a peaceful moment in an otherwise crazy day.

Outside, a world that needed them buzzed hot and cold on their presence. His people were trapped inside a building that was their only home ground so far. He was gathering more and more to their protection. The networks in space beyond were passing the word. Prime and our soldiers have been found. They have been found. Prime will show us the way now.

Come.

He had found the burden exhausting before when he had shouldered it alone. But now he had Prowl. That had made the complete difference. He was happy at last even if things were hard. difficult and even stupid. He had survived worse experiences than billionaires who liked to play soldier boy and xenophobes who spewed their opinions on cable tv.

He had a idea, enough resources and expertise among his soldiers to make a plan for their safety and prosperity elsewhere while at the same time being able to protect the Earth and her people. After all, as far as he could ascertain even with pretensions no one on Earth truly owned Mars.

The door opened and Prowl entered closing it behind him. He shook his head. "Do you want the whole convoluted story or just the cliff notes."

pause. access. cliff notes, noun. acquired. download. access terminated.

"Which ever one has the most laughs," he said holding out his hand.

Prowl took it and leaned down kissing Optimus softly. "They both do."

Prime smiled.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet's quarters

It was dark inside and he switched to night vision. Sitting in a chair sipping a glass of high grade, Ratchet was waiting. He paused uncertain what to do, then walked over taking a seat across from his Only One. "It's dark and you're drinking. You confound me."

Ratchet grinned sitting the glass down pushing it over to Ironhide. Ironhide took it and finished it off. They sat together looking at each other with night vision. Then Ratchet leaned forward. "I know something."

Ironhide considered the potential of the statement and decided you only die once. "What do you know, Ratchet?"

"I know that you would never do this thing," Ratchet said. He grinned. "I know it isn't you."

Ironhide nodded. "I would give you my right arm, Ratchet."

"You have. A couple of times."

They both snorted. Ratchet grinned at him. "You're the best old mech I know."

Ironhide smiled and reached out squeezing Ratchet's servo. "You know how I feel about you. I'm not the best with words. I hope you know by what I do."

"I do," Ratchet said warmly squeezing him back. "I just need to know if you want this too. And if you do would you do it now or wait some more."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet a long time then he leaned forward taking Ratchet's servo in his own. "I want this too. I also don't want anything to happen to you if we do. We're not younglings."

"But we're not old either, not really. I looked it up."

Ironhide snorted, laughing for a moment. "Your datapads?"

"Among other things," Ratchet said nodding.

Ironhide sat back regarding Ratchet with warm optics. "You are the best thing I ever did for myself. I have never laughed as much or loved as much except with you. How could I ever want that to be put into danger."

"It won't happen."

"How can you know?"

"Because I say so," Ratchet said smirking. "Even the Pit would spit me back out."

"But the Matrix would take you," Ironhide said.

It was silent a moment. "When you were laying there in the snow in Denver, I thought you were dead. I felt such a tearing in my spark that I knew you were on your way. You stayed. I knew that it could always be that way for us. We're soldiers. But I don't have to like it and we don't have to let it rule us. I want a part of you running around with a part of me tearing up the world and showing the universe that Ironhide and Ratchet were here."

He sat regarding Ratchet, thinking how beautiful he truly was. There was nothing about Ratchet that he didn't love. When he came to their quarters and Ratchet wasn't there, Ironhide didn't stay. It felt empty and cold, that spark, that comfort wasn't there. It was wherever Ratchet was. He had been separated many times from the gangling medico but never in his spark. They would always be one. He nodded. "I do too."

Ratchet smiled and rose holding out his servo. Ironhide rose and gripped it pulling Ratchet into his arms. They stood together swaying in the dark using night vision.

"Ratchet?"

"Hmm."

"Why the dark?"

"Romantic."

"Oh." Silence. "Wanna frag?"

"Thought you would never ask."

"I'm askin'.

=0=Prowl's office

"This place is nuts."

"I think you should relax the house rules," Prowl said smiling. "I think getting the mechs out to the beach and obstacle course would be a reasonable concession."

"You're right. Buddy system."

Prowl nodded.

"Come sit on my lap a moment, buddy," Prime said grinning.

"Thought you would never ask."

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet's quarters five minutes later

Ironhide was out cold as a wedge. Buried under his bulk was a very much awake Ratchet. Nearly four tons of black metallic Autobot lay splayed over nearly five tons of yellow.

"Ironhide?"

Silence.

"Ironhide."

Silence.

"Frag."

=0=Over the Comm system, internal and external

"The obstacle course and the beach will be open to general use starting now and until further notice. You must observe the buddy system at all times. The rules about fraternization with the human population are still in effect. There will be no confrontations. Any possibility of one arising, you are ordered to walk away and report the incident to the officer of the day. Any further questions can be directed to Senior Autobot Officers. Prowl out."

"Well, that's an improvement." Sideswipe rose turning to the door. "I'm going for a spin. You coming?"

Sunstreaker finished his energon and rose. "Coming."

Hound and Trailbreaker sitting and declining watched them go. "I hope nothing happens. Sunny is still angry," Hound said.

"They slagged Bluestreak. I'd be angry too," Trailbreaker said relaxing his peds on Sideswipe's chair.

Hound nodded.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet's quarters

"Ironhide?"

A groan came from the general direction of Ironhide's helm and Ratchet reached down finding the correct wire. He pinched it and Ironhide roused looking at Ratchet with a bleary optic. "What? What did you do that for?"

"You weigh a ton," Ratchet said irritated. "Can you move over a moment."

Ironhide rolled over and relaxed on his back intensely glad to be back on the berth again. He glanced at Ratchet who was laying with his back to him facing the wall. Rolling on his side propping himself up on an elbow, he stared down. "Ratchet?"

"Ironhide."

"What?"

"You finished the race without me, you big slagger."

"Oops," Ironhide said. "Uh, Ratchet … it's been a while."

=0=Outside, rolling to the beach

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe skated toward the tarmac where the jets were parked. Small vehicles drove here and there going about the business of running a military base. Here and there sitting out in the sun on their off time soldiers and airmen watched, snapping pictures of them as they rolled along. Among them was a soldier who took a lot of pictures and checked them after the two had passed. He would be sending them to a new friend, Intel-Martin C.E.O. Kent.

There was a high paying future in store for him, he thought. All it took was a bit of luck and he would have a career in security that actually paid a living wage. He leaned back on his deck chair and relaxed.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet's quarters

"I'm sorry, Ratchet."

Silence.

"How about we try it again?"

Ratchet shifted and Ironhide smiled. "That's my best old mech."

Ratchet's arm flopped over laying nearly over Ironhide's helm. He gripped it holding it up, something tickling his nasal structure. It was an interface cord from a panel on Ratchet's wrist.

"Uh, Ratchet? I was hoping for something more substantial."

=0=At the beach

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe roared down the beach skating in a race to a pile of big boulders far down the length of the sandy expanse. The wind whistled past their audials as they tore up the sand flying at nearly 150 miles per hour.

The sun glinted on the ocean, an almost incomprehensible sight to them when they first arrived. There were no expanses of water of any consequence on Cybertron. It took some getting used to. But the beaches, they were fun to race on and they often would come to do it together.

They pulled up, Sunstreaker barely acing out Sideswipe, then turned roaring back again. They played and sparred, fenced and talked, relaxing together as friends and brothers. They didn't see someone with a high powered camera sitting on a hill top some distance away taking pictures and short videos of their antics. They were just two youngling soldiers having a good time together.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet's quarters

"Uh, Ratchet? I was hoping for something more substantial."

Silence.

Then Ratchet plopped a leg over Ironhide. Ironhide glancing down to spot Ratchet's yellow appendage smiled. "You know, if you throw a few more things over I can re-assemble you on this side."

Even Ratchet had to laugh.

=0=

 

#45: “One small step for mechs ...”

 

Note: On a number of occasions both in print and film, Autobots have discussed how good it is that they don't need to breathe air to live. Bumblebee has said it before in the cartoon. Mars has a thin atmosphere that will serve their needs reasonably well. And that is the position of the story. -The management

 

=0=Late that night

They walked out quietly as if to stroll around the air field for the night visiting with the Aerialbots and Cosmos who were parked there. In ones and twos, they walked together, Wheeljack and Perceptor, Beachcomber who had come a week earlier at the request of Prime, Ironhide, Sunstreaker and Prime himself.

They walked about the jets like it was any other night then one by one they walked to Cosmos and ducked inside. Silverbolt scheduled to fly around the North Pole at the request of NASA was resting between the tower and Cosmos giving him cover with his bulk. When they were all on board Cosmos closed his hatch and lifted off ostensibly on his way to space for a reconn mission around the outer edge of the inner planetary ring.

Sitting together happily discussing the future of the new world they would be exploring for the next ten orns and the potential it could have to be the new home of their tragic people, Prime sat back and felt a delight he hadn't felt in ages.

=0=Ratchet

He sat on the bench in front of the Autobot HQ considering the future as he watched Cosmos lift off and fade away into the night sky. Above him shown the stars of the universe and some place faraway was the planet that had been his home and the location of all their memories, history and culture. He wondered upon it tonight. How was it on Cybertron? Was anyone still there? Would they ever be able to figure out a way to make the fading space bridges work again? Would someday from Mars, their New Cybertron would they be able to go back and forth? Would Cybertron be theirs once more as well? He didn't know. He just looked at the scanner in his servo.

Nothing.

They hadn't sparked.

Coolant pooled in his optics as he thought about the moment when they both could see that it hadn't happened.

-0-Earlier

They sat together in Ratchet's office, Ironhide watching the dejection on Ratchet's face. When the prank war began he knew Ratchet was serious and he knew that the idea of a sparkling wasn't a random thing. They had talked before. Sometimes he thought they did because it was a way of talking a future into existence. They had been so close to the brink so many times that sometimes all they had were dreams and hopes.

But now they had some leeway and even though Ironhide wasn't convinced that things were safe enough to have sparklings around he knew as well that day might never truly come. So he was happy with the final decision. Ratchet would do the honors. All they had to do was make it happen.

And it hadn't.

He wondered what it was like to know better, to have no leeway to kid yourself. Ratchet was the best mechanical doctor Cybertron had ever produced. He could read the data and know. They had failed. He reached over and took Ratchet's hand. They sat together a long time without saying a word and when the call from Prime came he had risen and they hugged tightly. He wanted to stay but he had to go and Ratchet knew it too. They had walked together parting at the hangar door. Ironhide never looked back.

Ever.

It was too hard. He just walked forward moving toward a project that could possibly provide the first home they would have since the fall of Cybertron. And as he did he imagined sparklings playing there, his sparkling among them.

-0-Ratchet now

He drew back his disappointment as he considered his home world. Cybertron was barren and so was he. Then he gathered himself together and thought about it. First times among the younger set had not been so common. In fact, he tried to remember when he last saw or cared for a sparked genitor. Another dagger in their collective hearts, the faded memories he recalled.

It pained him that it was so long ago. It was so far into the past that the youngling couples among them weren't even that interested in sparking their own. Hound and Trailblazer should have had sparklings of their own by now in a perfect world. On some world somewhere where it was perfect, there should be a flock of sparklings ranging around in a healthy population this size. He felt his spark squeeze for his people.

Then he made up his mind that he would be the one and it would let the others see what they were missing. He would be the trailblazer, he and Ironhide. He resolved that. He looked up and wondered again. For Cybertron, for their people, for the youngling mechs surrounding him he would spark somehow.

Even if it killed Ironhide.

He smiled warmed at last.

=0=Far away, under the same stars

Starscream lay in recharge, the night sky above him shining with countless stars and galaxies. He was far from the skies of his home world and for a moment he let it circulate through him the homesickness he felt. Then he pushed it aside considering the pictures he received from Diego Garcia. He smiled. Those horrendous twins were playing as if the threat wasn't still there for them. He didn't mind that they were lulled into laxness. It worked for him that they might think they could let down and relax.

He would try and ship weapons again leaving them with an intermediary arms dealer that was going to be in Alaska. He would try again to make trouble between the humans and the Autobots. It wasn't hard. Humans were hysterical and seemed to find fear a more natural state than reason.

He had made enough contacts and spread enough money around to find himself a hook into the paranoid world of neocon warmongers and talking heads. He was now a welcomed addition to a number of exclusive listservs and mailing lists, his growing fortune finding entrance into the world of delusional theorists and the power elites. That he had merely 'transferred' money in dormant accounts in banks and investment houses all over the world into his own accounts with little trouble was of almost no consequence to him. He wanted what it brought, not the thing itself.

Starscream smirked shifting on his berth to allow more comfort to his wings. He knew that if the ones he courted had enough flattery and cash from him he could get them to embrace Unicron. Perhaps they already had. They were all weak, all stupid and all his.

Kent.

Daniels.

Galloway.

None of them would know who they were really dealing with until it was too late. By then, he would have enough money from arms deals and drugs to make inroads into the real power, politics. Manipulate a lackey corporate owned media, buy enough politicians, find the appropriate public face for his machinations and the Autobots would be without a home on their benighted mud ball.

It comforted Starscream as he lay in repose watching the Milky Way turn on its axis as it floated silently through the universe.

=0=Mars

They circled the planet, Prime going over assignments with his team and Cosmos. There would be a host of things to do for the short time they would be here. They were landing on the Tharsis Volcanic Province, a place of great volcanic upheaval and the general area of the greatest and very much dead volcanoes on the planet including Olympus Mons, a shield volcano that lay at the western edge.

They were going to be looking for raw materials that would allow them to make structures and equipment as well as provide a source of energy for nutrition. The technology to make other forms of energy into energon they had themselves. They just needed a place with the space and raw materials to make it in the quantities they would need to support their refugee populations, all of whom waited for help in places all over the galaxy.

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with but a first step," Prime said looking at his mechs. "We have to do our best to find the best location to begin a colony. The volcanic regions are rife with raw materials. That is our goal; find the necessities of life then work our afts off to make it happen."

They nodded and Prime rapped the bulkhead. Cosmos acknowledging began to descend toward the planet below. They sat watching as the rusty red soil of Mars got closer and closer. When Cosmos settled, the door opened and they stepped out, Prime first. He stood a moment looking out at the barely hospitable plain before himself. Then he stepped down, the surface dust pillowing around his ped like talcum powder.

Sunstreaker put a ped down sneering with distaste. "I never thought I would be homesick for Earth. At least you stand on ground when you walk. Usually."

"Mech up, youngling," Ironhide said stepping out to look around. "This looks promising. I can see iron laying on the surface."

Prime bent down and picked up a meteor which was laying on the surface like a big stone. He raised it, hefting it in his hand. "Good start," he said with a smile. Looking around, he shook his head. "You'll have to use your imagination a little for now."

=0=TBC

#46: “ ... one giant leap for Mechkind.”

=0=Mars

They scouted the plain finding on the ground in some places necessary minerals and raw materials to work into the endless requirements that living in an off world colony with an eventual civilian population would entail. The effects of endless eons of wind erosion had polished the ground and hills exposing a basic basaltic structure and endless masses of ores.

They had gathered together listening to the first impressions Beachcomber could supply without a more detailed analysis. The geologist was impressed. "We won't have to excavate a lot of what we need to fabricate shelters and gun installations. We can scoop it up and take it to a smelter with minimal effort."

Prime nodded as he looked around the endless plain to the massive form of Olympus Mons in the distance. "Then we need to mark off an area in which we're going to lay down the initial planned settlement. We have to make the area safe for us before we can risk anyone else. We need to put out sensors on the mountains, spread them all around the planet and link them together. We also need to build underground first. If the Decepticons are going to attack us and they will, we need to be in a more hardened condition than we would be above ground for now."

They split up in teams working out the logistics of moving a refinery to the site, how they would dig downward and how they would defend their territory against invaders from space. By the time they had to leave their plans were set. It would take stealth on their part and endless effort as well to make it happen and keep it secret.

The ride back on Cosmos was sobering. But there wasn't a mech that wasn't ready for a home of their own at last.

=0=Diego Garcia

They wandered back, ones and twos making their way to the HQ, drawing no attention to themselves as they walked in. Sunstreaker tapped his brother and jerked his head toward the living areas, Sideswipe jumping up to follow him. Prime went to Ops Center to catch up and spend a moment or two with Prowl. The scientists walked together talking softly as they made their way to Wheeljack's lab, a happy Beachcomber in tow.

Ironhide watched them go and walked onward, Medbay looming in his optics. When he left Ratchet they had been sad and Ratchet was very low. He hadn't looked back as he walked to the jet. He never did or he couldn't go. He wondered as he walked to the door of Medbay what shape Ratchet would be in. Stepping inside, afraid to open his bond for fear of what he might find he spotted First Aid. "Psst."

First Aid working on some samples of viruses that humans wanted to have help with startled. He juggled a petrie dish in his servos until he caught it, turning to see Ironhide in the doorway. He felt the walls closing in as he considered what form of madness would befall him now. "What, Ironhide."

"Shh." Ironhide gestured for him to come to the doorway.

"Ratchet isn't here."

Ironhide paused frowning. "He isn't?

"No."

Ironhide walked inside pulling up a chair next to First Aid, ignoring how nervous the younger mech became.

"You aren't going to draw me into your crazy are you? he asked.

Ironhide shook his head. "We have a truce."

"Oh."

"I want to know how Ratchet is?"

First Aid frowned. "You don't know?"

"I just got back," Ironhide said.

"You should know. Open your bond up," First Aid began.

"I would but I don't want to disturb Ratchet for a moment," Ironhide said knowing it sounded lame to him too but it was the best he had at the moment.

"You're still prank warring and you're afraid to go home."

"We have a truce and I'm … uh, I'm just getting intel. Tell me how Ratchet was today and why he's not here. His shift isn't over is it?"

"No," First Aid said shaking his helm. "He was quiet and didn't say much, like he was depressed." He paused. "You two aren't …?"

"What?" Ironhide asked sitting up straighter.

"You know …?"

"No. I don't know. What have you heard?" Ironhide asked slightly offended.

"That you're both certifiable," First Aid retorted.

"Besides that."

"Nothing. What have you heard?" First Aid asked nervously.

"Nothing. That's why I'm asking you," Ironhide replied earnestly.

"I don't know nothing. You shouldn't ask me. No one tells me nothing. I am the last one to know anything. Ask me."

"I just did, First Aid. I asked you what you heard and you said nothing."

"See?" First Aid concluded.

They sat staring at each other then Ironhide arose nodding as he walked to the door and outside. First Aid watched him go and shook his helm. "Those two are going to kill me."

Ironhide walked up the hallway toward the quarters section of the facility. /... there's a screw loose in that one … can't get a straight word out of him … don't know how Ratchet does it.../ He paused in front of his door opening up the bond in the most minute manner and waited. He didn't feel a thing beyond a warmth that was always part of Ratchet. He squared his shoulders, rose his full 25 feet and opened the door.

A yellow hand reached out gripping his arm and he vanished inside. Down the hallway carrying his gear and chatting with Sideswipe Sunstreaker paused. "Did you see what I saw?"

Sideswipe glanced at him then down the hallway. "No. What did you see?"

"An arm. A yellow arm reached out of Ironhide's quarters and grabbed him. He got yanked off his peds. His peds actually left the ground."

They stood staring down the hallway, then Sideswipe smiled. "I wonder what they're doing in there."

Sunstreaker choked and looked at his brother with a wicked optic. "You worry me, Sideswipe. Sometimes you really do."

Sideswipe snorted and shoved his brother forward. "Look who's talking." They continued on down the hallway.

=0=Ops Center

Prime entered the command center pausing to look for Prowl. He was standing by Jazz leaning forward, one servo propped on the console while listening. His body was curved, an elegant pose and the long line of his leg was entrancing. His door wings were held at normal height, a slight flutter in their movement told him of Prowl's attitude and attentiveness. He hadn't sensed Prime yet so he opened the bond catching the shining expression on Prowl's face as he straightened and turned to look at Prime.

A small smile for him alone graced Prowl's face and Prime felt a warmth in his spark that he had come to count upon. Prowl walked toward him, inevitable datapad in hand and paused to grin slightly as he looked upward. "You look dusty."

"You look beautiful," Prime replied smiling.

Prowl smiled, a small intimate thing and squeezed Prime's servo. "How was it?"

"We have a layout and we're going to dig the underground habitations next."

Prowl nodded. "You'll have to fill me in so I can help you."

"You do," Prime said whispering. "In every way."

Prowl smiled, an altogether beautiful thing.

"I'm going to the wash racks. I'll see you shortly," Prime said squeezing Prowl's servo.

Prowl nodded and watched him turn, walking out of the door. He stood a moment savoring the joy of his life then turned, walking back to Teletraan II once more.

=0=Ironhide v Ratchet

He lay on his back, a big yellow medico leaning over him straddling his chassis, kissing him with gusto. He stared into Ratchet's optics. They were closed and absorbed in the moment. He decided it would be churlish of himself not to join in so he off-lined his optics gripping Ratchet's aft. When Ratchet broke the kiss he looked at Ironhide with a slightly feral gleam in his optics. "Glad to see you, Ironhide."

He swallowed.

=0=At Medbay

First Aid sat pondering the vagaries of the world as he knew it. The saga of Ironhide and Ratchet was one of those things. How he had managed to live through the previous prank wars, he didn't know. They didn't come very often but they seldom lasted this long. This one was collecting collateral damage, himself included and he wondered how it would end.

Ratchet had been quiet and withdrawn in the morning but then he had changed gathering himself together. The old Ratchet had spent the next few hours doing his job, scattering goof offs with his acerbic commentary and generally being himself. A half a joor before Cosmos landed he had left. Where, First Aid could only guess.

And only guess is what he wanted. One could get hurt in the blow back of Ratchet v Ironhide. With a shudder, he bent to his work again.

=0=Ironhide v Ratchet

"Ah ha!"

Ratchet lay on his back, his servos pinned by his Only One as he considered his options. He could arch up and by his greater bulk, er, design advantage he could bound Ironhide into the wall then straddle **HIS** chassis for dominance. He grinned, a deeply frightening sight to Ironhide who straddled Ratchet after a very short deeply contested struggle. "You're giving me a gimlet eye, Ratchet."

Ratchet snorted, grinning broadly. "I can give you a number of other things, Ironhide. Let me show you."

Ironhide stared into Ratchet's optics, the 'windows to the spark' or some such slag according to Cosmopolitan Magazine. His forays through the vagaries of human sexual manipulation had nothing on the sheer slap and tickle of Ratchet. Yes, subtlety wasn't a strong suit of either one of them he considered with a grin. "Let me show you a few things, ba-bee," he said chuckling, leaning down to nibble on Ratchet's neck.

Ratchet relaxed allowing Ironhide to lower his guard. Then Ironhide bounded off the wall as Ratchet arched up throwing him sideways. Ratchet rolled off the berth allowing Ironhide to face plant himself then leaped, landing on Ironhide, pressing him down. "You never learn, **ba-bee**."

Ironhide grinning peered up at Ratchet who straddled him, his digits tracing soothing lines down Ironhide's back plates. "You win round one. But the game is not over."

"No," Ratchet said smiling. He leaned down and slipped his fingers into the seams of Ironhide's armor generating a small burst of electrical energy. Ironhide's arm twitched involuntarily and he grinned. "You wench."

pause. access. wench, noun. download. access terminated.

"Wench."

"Seemed reasonable."

Ratchet grinned. "Was Mars good?"

"Better than good. Prime is a wonder. We just might have a new home, Ratchet."

"Then we need new mechs. We need a sparkling."

"We do," Ironhide said feeling himself drifting in a sea of electrically charged pleasure where there weren't any problems or pressures.

Then Ratchet leaned down on him. "Now."

He smiled anyway.

=0=

 

#47: The Ratchet Two Step, Part One

 

=0=Two days later

Ironhide's sensors were up and he walked with great care expecting fire from any direction. He didn't know where the attack would come from, he just knew it would. He hurried down the road and made for the shelter that he knew was unassailable. Knocking, he waited.

"Enter."

The voice was warm and welcoming and he knew that they would shelter him against being caught. Gripping the handle, looking all around before entering, he slipped inside, the door closing noiselessly behind him. He stood, his audials pressed against the door listening. No footsteps behind him. Probably a good thing. He in all likelihood eluded capture.

"Ironhide, what are you doing?"

He turned relaxing only marginally. "Hiding, Prime. If you don't mind."

Optimus Prime, the bearer of the Matrix of Leadership put down his stylus and leaned back in his chair enjoying to a degree he found almost indecent the visual of Ironhide, Chaos Bringer and frontliner, the single most feared Autobot among the Decepticons hiding behind his door. "I don't mind," he said with a chuckle.

Ironhide slumped with relief moving to sit on the chair across the desk from Prime. "Thanks."

"Ratchet?" Prime asked putting his peds up on his desk as he took a moment for hilarity from the drudge of paperwork and budgets.

Ironhide nodded off-lining his optics for a moment. "Ratchet is going to kill me, Prime. You better audition another soldier to be your right servo go-to mech. I am fraggin' done for."

Prime laughed and shook his head. "Do fill me in. Prowl only gives me the executive version."

"Prowl has too many scruples. Fortunately Ratchet and I don't have that problem."

"I don't know," Prime said lacing his digits behind his head. "You're hard on yourself. And Ratchet is the sole of discretion."

Ironhide snorted. "You should see Ratchet when he's on a tear."

"He isn't **now**?"

"Well, yeah. But this is sort of muted compared to some of his crazy back in the day." Ironhide got a faraway look for a moment, then shook his head. "I have to hide out a while."

"Sparklings."

Ironhide nodded. "He has this idea that our sparkling if we can do this will be the first sparkling born on the colony."

"That would be a wonderful thing," Prime said.

"It can be. If I live through it that is," Ironhide said freezing as something bumped the door. He sat and listened, relaxing as it went away.

"I take it you're being hunted."

Ironhide looked at Prime shaking his head. "You know me. I'm all for a good 'facing but Ratchet is out of his processor. Day and night, everywhere I turn around. A mech can only take so much."

"I would feel sorry for you but most mechs I know would love to have your problems," Prime said grinning broadly.

"Well, most mechs aren't bonded to Ratchet."

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts? Its been what … a few zillion eons you two have been together..." Prime began.

"At least. I think we were there when Unicron popped out," Ironhide said. He shook his head. "Ratchet is relentless and he has all these datapads filled with suggestions."

"A 'facing manual," Prime said, grinning.

Ironhide glanced at him. "Apparently, Ratchet has a store of dirty datapads that he's never shared, the slagger."

"But they're **medical** datapads aren't they?" Prime asked making a mental note to talk to Ratchet at some future date.

"If you say so." Ironhide shook his helm. "I thought this last prank war would never end. I dreamed day and night of 'facing the old yellow aft and now? I can't turn over in the berth without a yellow servo reaching for something."

Prime snorted and laughed. "Reach back."

"I did. For a while. You know, Ratchet is a good old mech but he outweighs me."

Prime grinned. "He does?"

"Yeah, but don't tell him I said so. He has redundant systems and the like. It's how he's designed. But when he decides to 'face ya, he's almost stronger than me."

Prime laughed and regarded Ironhide. "You better start working out."

Ironhide grinned. "It wouldn't help. Ratchet has skills. Did you know he's slagging good at hand-to-hand combat?"

"I know he can fight but as far as it goes..." Prime prompted, thoroughly enjoying himself at Ironhide's expense.

"Oh, Primus. He can deck ya if you aren't ready for it." He grinned. "He's also a pretty good wrestler."

"The Sexy?" Prime asked chuckling.

Ironhide snorted. "Yeah. How did you know?" Ironhide shot Prime a wary optic.

"You two live large. It's hard to not hear half of what you do when you're warring and yelling." Prime grinned at him noting his discomfort.

"Oh," Ironhide said. "Well, he's got his sails up and I'm doomed."

"Shall we take you off the duty roster until the deed is done?" Prime asked, smiling.

"Oh, Primus, no! He'll **kill** me."

They snorted and chuckled together. It was nice and quiet and easy-going.

"Ratchet told me about your dream." Prime grinned. "Apparently he would never date a Mom van."

Ironhide snorted and grinned. "I was a red van and sounded like a slagging idiot. He was fraggin' good looking, all white and red. Ratchet looks real good in white."

"Maybe you can suggest it and play White Medic and Mom Van. Could get you through the dark orns ahead."

Ironhide grinned. "We play Yellow Medic and the Chaos Bringer."

Prime laughed out loud. "I can see it," he said.

Ironhide smiled. "Ratchet is the best fun I ever had. He sure likes to have fun."

Prime nodded. "He does. What's your plan? You have to go home at some point."

"I was hoping the Decepticons were attacking Washington, D.C." Ironhide paused. "I think I did dream that once. Wheeljack got slagged but he saved the day."

"You should tell him."

"I will. I can tell him when he's hiding me," Ironhide said with a grin.

The intercom tweaked. "Ratchet to Prime."

"Prime here."

"Optimus, I know Ironhide is hiding in your office. Send him out or I'm coming in after him."

Ironhide stood staring at the door like it was a many tentacled monster. He looked at Prime. "Hide me."

"You're a bit on the big side but I do have a desk drawer," Prime said pulling one open. "If you can fit in here I will lie for you."

"The only consolation I have right now is someday Prowl is going to beat your aft as hard as Ratchet."

Prime laughed, shaking his head. "No. Ratchet is one of a kind."

Ironhide pausing by the door turned and grinned at him. "He is." With a nod, Ironhide opened the door a crack and peered outside, seeing no yellow medico lurking. Then he slipped out and was gone, the door closing behind him. Prime snickering put his peds down and picked up a stylus. Shaking his head, grinning, he returned to the bone dry world of work.

=0=Ratchet, hunting

Ratchet walked calmly out of their quarters, a datapad in his hands. It was a sparking manual and he was determined to make sure that the momentous was achieved. One way or the other.

Ironhide wasn't in the rec room, the training room downstairs, the munitions vault or the armory. He wasn't in the medbay nor was he outside. The Officer of the Day told him that he wasn't on the records as going out. That meant he was in the complex and it was only a matter of time. Pausing outside Ops Center, he peeked in.

No Ironhide.

Continuing on, he slipped the manual into subspace and returned to the hunt, a feral gleam in his optics.

=0=Ironhide, fleeing

He opened the door and stepped inside shutting it tightly. Listening for footsteps he heard none. Turning pausing, he locked optics with Wheeljack. "Hey, 'Jack."

"You can't hide here, Ironhide."

"You can't kick me out. I'm running out of places."

"I have to work with Ratchet, Ironhide."

"Just let me hide somewhere. You won't even see me." He looked around, opening a closet and closing it. Then he moved to Wheeljack's desk, pulling the chair out, studying whether he could fit underneath. Then he heard a knock on the door. Freezing, his optics as big as truck tires, he turned and ran in circles seeking shelter.

Wheeljack watching him with his own big optics pointed to a small equipment room and Ironhide tip-toed as fast as he could toward it shutting the door behind him.

"Wheeljack?"

It was Ratchet. Wheeljack for a nanoklik almost joined Ironhide in the equipment room, then he pulled himself together. "Come in, Ratchet. It's not locked."

Ratchet entered looking around, checking the corners and under the desk. "Where is he, 'Jack?"

"Who, Ratch?" he asked, his voice betraying his nerves.

Ratchet paused looking at Wheeljack with a smirk. "You're a terrible liar."

"I don't know what you mean?" he said nodding his helm at the equipment room.

Ratchet grinned folding his arms across his chassis. "Actually, I wasn't coming here to see Ironhide. I didn't want to see him actually."

"You **didn't**?" Wheeljack asked surprised. Ratchet waved his hands pointing at the door and smirking. He nodded at Wheeljack and 'Jack, sort of getting it nodded back. "You didn't. That's right. You weren't here for Ironhide." Wheeljack looked at Ratchet trying desperately to follow along.

"I was here for you, 'Jack."

"You **were**? Uh, yes. You were," Wheeljack said stuttering. "Anyone can see that."

Ratchet bit his lower lip plate and shook his helm. "I think with all that's going on that it's time to stop hiding."

"Who? Oh. Yes, stop hiding." He frowned and mouthed, "what?"

"Us, 'Jack. You and me. How about going some place and having a 'face?"

Wheeljack's mouth fell open and Ratchet put both servos over his mouth quelling the belly laugh he wanted to have. As he did the door opened and Ironhide stepped out anger on his face and fire in his optics.

"Why, **Ironhide**! Who could have **known** you were hiding in the closet?" Ratchet said feigning surprise.

"I wasn't **hiding in a closet**! It's an **equipment room** ," Ironhide said moving to stand nose-to-nose with Ratchet. "What the **frag** is going on here?"

"I don't know," Ratchet said, grinning. "What is going on here, 'Jack?"

Wheeljack arose from his chair, his lights blinking wildly. "Don't drag **me** into this."

Ratchet patted Wheeljack's arm and grabbed Ironhide's. "Come on, Ironhide." He turned and pulled Ironhide behind him closing the door.

Wheeljack standing silently a moment shook his head. "I think they deserve each other," he said with a chuckle.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet

They walked together down the corridor, Ironhide's servo resting lightly on Ratchet's back.

"Poor Wheeljack."

"That was mean," Ratchet conceded. "If you weren't such a little femme this wouldn't be necessary."

" **This**? You're wearing out my sprockets," Ironhide replied with a grin. "You're a terror, Ratchet."

"I know," Ratchet said with a chuckle.

They walked together and when they reached their quarters Ironhide gave it up without a fight. Which was his plan all along.

=0=

 

#48: “Take me now, Sides! ...”

=0=Sideswipe

He tossed the game console to one side lying flat on the berth bored out of his helm. Sunstreaker was on Mars providing protection and the occasional muscle for work crews that were digging an underground installation. He himself was rotating with the day shift at Ops Center to allow skilled personnel to go to the place Prime was calling Autobot City.

He looked at the screen, the gift of a billionaire who had an interest in the technology that the Autobots had and weren't sharing. Seventy-two inch screen televisions had arrived and the younglings had begged for them for their quarters. Prime unwilling to be anyone's puppet nevertheless allowed it.

He picked up a datapad that granted encrypted access to the internet and pulled up Google. A cursory search of 'Autobot' brought up one hundred fifteen million hits. It was the usual commentary interspersed with sites that had pictures, video and 'inside information' about them. He had satiated himself on those earlier with Sunstreaker who complained at the quality of the video and how it didn't show how beautiful he truly was. Sideswipe snorted and smiled. He kept scrolling...

=0=Autobot City, Mars

Sunstreaker sat on a pile of rocks, the dig out from the labyrinthine maze that was being constructed as the first stage of their colony. He liked the place. The flatness would allow good racing. Nearby helping lift parts of a smelter out of boxes, Bluestreak happily chatted with Beachcomber who would have lived on the planet if they had let him. He was talking to Blue about all the wonderful ores, rocks and layers of this and that he had found. It was a veritable paradise for a geologist he said.

Sunstreaker watched them admiring the delicate appearing beauty of Bluestreak that led one to underestimate how tough, strong and agile he was. It must be the wings he thought. They **looked** delicate but weren't anymore than the rest of his gangling frame. He smiled slightly. "Blue."

Bluestreak turned and smiled, waving. "What?"

"You're going to be a mess you keep standing in this stuff."

"I don't mind, Sunny. You can wash my back later," he said, then turned back to Beachcomber to continue the chat.

Sunstreaker shook his head and looked back over the Tharsis Plain. This was going to be home and their lives might change into something more than fighting and dying. The thought had held him in its grip for orns now and he wondered what it would be like to be an artist once more. He looked at Bluestreak, at his sweet gentle manner and wondered what it might mean for the two of them to have a chance at a normal life.

=0=Sideswipe

He scrolled down and found a link that was named 'Fanfiction..net' so he clicked on it. A search screen opened at a link and for a hoot he put 'Autobot' into the request line. He blinked when it opened, the endless lists of stories, authors and communities was overwhelming...

=0=Ops Center

Prowl stood and watched as the data came in. Something was going on in North America. Sensors in space patched into Teletraan II had alerted them to activity over the pole. The magnetic forces of the Earth made that a favorite place for Decepticons to come and go as it scrambled somewhat all their sensors. There was a couple of hits, then nothing. He pondered the implications and then turned moving toward Teletraan II to turn the satellites.

=0=At the N.E.S.T. Administrative Building

He stood before the platform, General Morshower and a number of civilian government officials filling the screens arrayed at the top of the platform where people gathered to talk to the Autobots during conferences or meetings involving them. Theodore Galloway occupied one of them, his pinched expression surpassed only by his pinched personality. Prime mostly ignored him as a lost cause.

The discussion was over the assault on Ironhide by the Intel-Martin employees. The reports, depositions by eye witnesses both Autobot and human as well as autopsies and toxicology reports all told the same story. The driver was drunk, all the passengers were as well and they had deliberately rammed Ironhide in some misguided game or failed conception of distance and reflex. No charges would be brought against any Autobot even though Intel-Martin had made noises about  
suing based on the outcome of the investigation. That was now spiked by the finding. But it didn't mean that Galloway wasn't going to vent.

"There has been no cooperation between Daniels and the Autobots, Prime," he said leaning toward his camera. "He is the liaison of the United States government and as such should be getting better treatment and cooperation than he is currently getting from your side."

Prime bit back his anger and looked at Galloway considering what a small insignificant individual he was. "He has been adversarial since he came here. He has no respect for either us or the soldiers of N.E.S.T. As for treatment, it was my soldier that was injured from the drunks in his company. I have not received a satisfactory answer to the question of why he has nine armed mercenaries in his company."

"Apparently he feels the need to have them," Galloway spat back. "If I were him, I might too."

"Based on what?" Morshower said exasperated. "You throw shit around, Galloway with nothing to back it up. Tell me why we should have hired scum like Intel-Martin on base in Diego Garcia?"

Galloway glared and sat back. "I think it's obvious."

"I think the only thing obvious is the corn cob stuck sideways up your ass," Morshower retorted.

Prime listened amused and irritated at the same time. Morshower was stand up man and a friend. Galloway was slag. He'd seen it so much in his life both on Cybertron and other places he was surprised that he could still get angry over it. He wondered how much damage Galloway would do when he found out about their efforts to make a colony on Mars. That would be a spectacular moment he mused.

The conversation continued and Prime was assured that the investigation would be closing with findings of negligence and criminal conduct on the part of the employees of Intel-Martin. He nodded and the conference was over, Lennox and Epps smiling.

"That must stick sideways in Daniels' craw," Epps said walking to the ladder to climb down.

Prime grinned and held out his servo, both men climbing in. Then he turned and walked out of the building moving down the middle of the hangar which was kept open for just such activity. They walked out and Prime sat them down. "That's over. The rest, the bad feelings and the sabotage won't be."

"You feel that too?" Lennox said frowning up at Prime.

Prime nodded. "They tend to go hand-in-hand in my experience."

"We have your back, Optimus," Epps said with Lennox nodding.

Prime smiled, his spark warmed. "I know. And we have yours."

=0=Sideswipe

He sat staring at the screen, the list of stories anonymously named people had written about them falling off the bottom of the screen it was so long. He had figured out the way they were listed then noticed that there were 'pairings'. Some of the stories involved Autobots with femmes, with humans both male and female, some with historical or fictional characters and lastly, most of them with each other. You could search the listings for every kind of story imaginable.

He sought a search for 'Sunstreaker and Sideswipe' and found endless stories for that category. He sat a moment almost afraid to look, then opened one called 'Sunny with a Sides of Bluestreak', written by someone with 34 stories named of all things, Hibby the Bibber. He braced himself and opened it...

"They hurried down the hallway of the Ark paint cans in hand. Snickering with glee, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe turned entering the officer's wing of the ship. Pausing before the quarters of SIC Prowl, they looked around nodding to Bluestreak who was on lookout. Hacking into Prowl's door alarm they sneaked inside, the door closing behind them."

Sideswipe grinned. /... tips … new ideas .../ He stretched out and began to read.

=0=Prowl

He turned the satellites in space toward the North Pole following the blinking lights as they arched over and began to go southeast toward Alaska and the Aleutian Islands before fading away. He frowned and commed Prime.

:Prowl to Prime:

:Prime:

:We may have a situation:

:On my way:

Prime turned and looked down at the two men who were watching him aware he was getting a message. He held down his servo and they climbed on. Turning, he walked to the Autobot HQ and the new intel coming into the computers in an endless stream.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They gathered their things together moving to go to Cosmos and home. They  
had begun to put the smelter together and soon they would be able to begin the fabrication process that would allow them to brace their excavations and build weapons installations that would protect them. When the smelter was up, they would run crews here day and night, the race to build a defensible fortification paramount.

Sunstreaker walked with Bluestreak who was chatting to Hound, himself carrying a set of plans for Perceptor. He grinned and shook his head. Bluestreak was so unconscious of his nervous habit that it had become as much a part of his persona as his graceful door wings or his compact physique. He knew why Blue did it and he didn't care. He just loved him. The insult to Blue that the soldiers and the mercs had done still rankled and he walked closer taking Blue's arm.

Blue pausing mid-word looked up at Sunstreaker with a smile. Sunny smiled down briefly, then looked ahead, the door of Cosmos looming. They were on their own turf, their own land and he was with the people that mattered. All was good in his world right now. It would be better if he could even the score with the mercs. Maybe later he thought as he climbed into Cosmos and the door slid shut.

=0=Sideswipe

He was sitting up again, his eyes riveted to the screen.

"They fell together landing on the berth, Sideswipe's servos everywhere on Bluestreak's lithe slim body. Side's devoured Blue's mouth, the younger mech making mewling sounds as he was dominated by the bigger mech. "Sides! Take me!"

Sideswipe paused swallowing. Hard. He continued.

"Blue, show me your stuff. Let me in," Sides said, his fans circulating cooling air throughout his overheating chassis. He reached down finding Blue's interface panel clicking it open to reach inside."

Blue awash in his touch, the sensation of his digits arched against him crying out in pleasure. "Sides! Oh, Sides! I need you. **Now**! **Hard**!"

Sideswipe put the datapad down and rose pacing in a circle, his processor whirling. He turned and looked at the screen, its details of Blue's body and his own animalistic attentions to said body hitting him like a low flying Decepticon. He returned to the berth, picked up the datapad and continued scrolling as he read further.

"Sideswipe gripped Blue's hips pulling him down and underneath his own bigger body, finding his own panel as he did. He pulled his own cords free and with a trembling hand plugged them both into each other. The feelings of intense heat hit them both hard as Bluestreak wrapped his legs around Sideswipe groaning as he clung to Sideswipe's bucking body."

At that point Sideswipe rose feeling the effects of suggestion. That part was fine. What wasn't fine was the truth it asserted. He had wanted to do something similar to Bluestreak forever. Bluestreak, his twin brother's lover. He sat, gathered himself and continued to the end of the story.

=0=Ops Cent

Prime and Prowl stood side-by-side watching the screen. The targets had made their way past the Arctic Circle, then disappeared. Lennox and Epps stared at it too.

"Looks like trouble," Will said sighing.

Prime merely nodded.

=0=

 

#49: “Blue, too.”

 

NOTE: I had to put two dots between fanfiction and net because an email won't transfer onto the site in a story. I tried. It will show deleted space. I also took liberties with the car alt forms on the teams. Jazz is a Porsche again and the others are just cool and upgraded. Thanks. -The Management

 

=0=Leaving Cosmos, at the tarmac back on Earth

They walked back across the landing field passing jets and humans going here and there. The cover story was that they were looking in the Oort Field for asteroids and other broken pieces of planets and cast off bits of comets, such things of interest to people in and out of government and science. The science they were doing was past the skill set of the humans and probably would be for generations so it was deeply popular and welcomed. The mineral content of their finds was also interesting to manufacturers and scientists, both groups requesting seats on the shuttle.

Prime had not allowed it and even though the requests came through daily he was adamant. The idea of taking humans off world and exposing them to the vagaries of space as well as the danger of Decepticons was unacceptable. But he did allow samples and data to be given to both. They made runs to the Oort Cloud from time to time to make the cover story work.

As they came home, a team was being put together to go to Alaska and track the sensor hits. Sunstreaker entered his shared quarters with Sideswipe finding him already gone to join the striker team. Tossing his gear down, he turned looking at the television screen that was showing a story of some kind. The datapad control was on the floor where it fell when Sideswipe ran out. He picked it up and glanced at the screen pausing at the sight of Bluestreak's name. Sitting, scrolling the words contained there he began to read.

=0=On the tarmac

Ironhide stood waiting, Ratchet staring at him with a concerned expression. "You don't need to go, Ironhide. You could use more time off."

"I won't get into trouble," Ironhide said.

"It's me you're talking to," Ratchet said crossing his arms over his chassis.

"It's just scouting, Ratchet. I probably won't even leave the plane," Ironhide insisted as he patted Ratchet's arm.

First Aid carrying a med kit walked past them nodding. He walked to Silverbolt and joined the others. Springer, Hound, Jazz, Mirage and Prime were gathered at the ramp loading gear.

Ironhide looked at Ratchet. "Ratchet, I will be back."

Ratchet looking at him with a worried frown finally nodded. "You better."

Ironhide nodded and pulled Ratchet into his arms holding him tightly. "I promise you."

They held each other for as long as they could, then Ironhide let go and turned walking away without a backward glance. Ratchet stared after him, watching his Only One as he climbed into the jet and the door closed behind him. He watched until it lifted off and for a moment afterward. Then he turned and walked back to the building and his job.

=0=Sunstreaker

He stared at the screen having just finished a story in which his brother had 'faced his lover, Bluestreak'. He blinked, then clicked links finding hundreds of stories. They were written about them by people he didn't know. He put the control down and leaned back on his servos trying to digest what he saw. As he did, the door opened and Bluestreak entered smiling. "Hey, Sunny. I thought I would go to the wash racks with you and then maybe we could get some energon and find some people to hang with... what?"

Sunstreaker staring at Bluestreak with an unreadable expression blinked. "I was just reading, Blue."

"Really?" Bluestreak said moving to sit next to Sunstreaker. "What are you reading?"

Sunstreaker hesitated, then showed him.

=0=Ratchet

He walked to Medbay worry in his spark about Ironhide. As he entered he paused listening to the silence. There was no one in the bay and he was glad. Walking to his office he sat down staring at the datapads and scanners on his desk. For a moment he didn't move, then he reached for a scanner calibrating it. He held it against his chest and shook his head. His depression was deep and when he finished he tossed it on the desk leaning back to stare at the ceiling for a moment. Then he sat up and picked up the scanner bracing himself before he looked at it. 

After a moment he did.

=0=Sunstreaker and Bluestreak

"What is this, Sunny?" Bluestreak asked puzzlement and surprise on his face.

"It's a place where people put stories they wrote for others to read. Apparently, we're something they like to read about."

He stared at Sunstreaker, then the screen, at a story that had him and the twins in a trine. He considered that, the idea of a trine and how humans could know such things. "How do they get some of this right? I don't remember anyone talking and it's against regulations to tell them about our private lives. How did this happen?"

"I don't know. The fraggers might be guessing," Sunstreaker said.

"They guess pretty well. Some of this is true," Bluestreak said shaking his head. "This story is about the three of us as a group, a trine."

"I know," Sunstreaker said looking at Blue's face. "What do you think about that, Blue?"

Blue glanced up at him confusion on his face. "What do you mean?"

"Could you ever be in a trine with me and Sides?"

Blue stared at him considering his words. "Is that what you want?"

"I didn't say I wanted it. I just asked you," Sunny said.

They stared at each other, then Blue rose. "I don't think … I don't know ..." Then he turned and walked out of the room.

Sunstreaker watched him go and glanced at the story, the part where the three of them were 'facing at the same time. "Slag," he said tossing the control down. He rose staring out the door. Bluestreak wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Slag," he said again.

=0=On Silverbolt

Prime went over the information that had arrived as they had readied. There were streaks of incredibly fast light, the trailing exhaust of high flying rocket propelled vehicles seen over Fairbanks angling toward the outskirts of Anchorage, Alaska. They were crossing the dark sky faster than any jet in the arsenal of any world air force. The cold sky was filled with stars and they were plainly visible.

Seekers he thought. Perhaps Starscream himself. The others sat together, some talking and laughing, others like Springer sitting stoically arms at hand and mind mentally bracing for just about anything. Prime grinned. It seemed like eons ago that the prank had been played and Ironhide had his payback in spades. As they flew ahead he kept in constant update through his link with Prowl whose steady calm presence made all the difference in this and any other world for him.

=0=Medbay

Ratchet stared at the scanner frowning slightly. Then he re-calibrated it, passing it over his chest again. For a moment he just stared, then put it down bracing his helm on his arms. He wept all by himself in the medbay.

=0=Bluestreak

He stood outside Ops Center watching Prowl working as control for the field team. He leaned on the doorjamb feeling a relief in his spark just by seeing Prowl. The calm tactician was like the sky above and the ground below his peds. Dependable, reliable, always comforting and always there.

Whenever he was hurt or afraid, when he needed to know that things were going to be okay, he would go to Prowl. He considered the older Praxian as a genitor and he knew that Prowl cared about him like he was his own sparkling. Given the precariousness of his life, Prowl was one of the two lynch pins that kept him sane. The other was Sunstreaker.

But now he was confused. He slipped inside finding a chair in the corner. Sitting, he watched and waited, the audio of the team filtering throughout the installation. When Prowl had a moment they would talk. He sat back, got comfortable and listened.

=0=Anchorage International Airport, Alaska

The jet came down slowly, landing silently on a security runway at Anchorage International Airport. Silverbolt lowered his ramp and cars began to drive off. The Autobots inside transformed as they stood at the doorway and drove off, each carrying soldiers.

A red Lamborghini, a silver Porsche and a green and yellow Top kick pickup truck rolled out slowly moving down the runway. They were followed by a black Top kick pick up truck, a white search and rescue hummer, a blue and white Ferrari and a brownish-green Range Rover. They moved toward a gate to let them pass and as they did Silverbolt rose up taking to the air using so little runway that any observers would wonder what manner of craft it actually was.

Sitting on the plane listening and communicating with those on the ground as well as Diego Garcia, Optimus Prime undertook his usual role, commander and back up/clean up mech.

The trucks rolled through the gates, security people greeting them. Local F.B.I. agents entered the green and yellow pickup to provide local support. They turned on International Airport Road and began to drive to town, the lights of Anchorage twinkling beyond.

Lennox wearing arctic gear sat in Ironhide watching the cars go by as they sped to and from the airport, one of the great ports of entry into the United States. Contraband, weapons and drugs passed through Anchorage on their way to the Lower 48 and so it was understandable that the Decepticons would use this out-of-the-way state to make an arms swap.

Spenard came into sight, a place of hotels, massage parlors and some of the oldest buildings in a town that was a small village until the advent of World War II and the invasion of the Aleutian Islands by Japan. It held over about half the state's small population and was a strange mix of high tech and stone age. Its hardy people lived on a great inlet 'discovered' by Captain Cook and the city was spread over a large area surrounded by magnificent mountains, the end range of the Rockies.

They reached 'C' Street and turned right going toward Dimond Boulevard and the shopping center where the exchange was supposed to take place. Driving spread out, they reached 36th Street and split up, Ironhide taking Mirage and Jazz down the street to the Old Seward Highway which paralleled 'C' Street. Springer led Hound, Sideswipe and First Aid down 'C' Street, the night time traffic thin on the ground.

Both teams reached Dimond Boulevard at the same time, the dark hulking form of Dimond Center before them, security lights throwing pools of illumination here and there. The sky was clear and the temperature board at a bank read -15 degrees. Epps stared at it and sighed. "This is no place for civilized people. From Diego to here? That's about a 100 degree difference in a few hours."

A soldier snorted and nodded. "Get them and get home."

"Hoo-ah," Epps said smirking.

They turned driving slowly down Dimond Boulevard, sensor nets sweeping the area from both directions. They passed pinging to each other as they did. Then crossing through the intersections at both ends, pulling into parking lots of stores that bordered the streets, they stopped and waited, engines running softly.

"Lennox to Prowl. Anything?"

"Prowl to Lennox. We have signals from behind the center. They appear to be three and spreading out moving your direction cautiously."

"Affirmative." He tapped Ironhide's dash. "Hide, catch anything?"

"There's a big con behind the building. There are two that are holding back. And there are two trucks driving into the parking lot."

"Everybody copy?" Lennox asked.

"Affirmative," came the replies. Then Springer took over as the field commander.

"Hide, you and Lennox come back and enter down at your end. Move to the lot in front of Best Buy and park. If they break that way cut them off. The rest of you move to the lot across the street and wait for the call. We're going to go around the back and get behind the signals. Maybe we can drive it into the open when the exchange is made. Hide, we'll need you to confirm that its taken place or if it goes sour."

"Affirmative."

They all moved, Ironhide driving up Old Spenard Highway and turning right into the Dimond Center, pulling into and up to the street edge of the parking lot. They sat quietly watching as two trucks drove through the parking lot moving toward their end of the big empty mall.

Away in the background over the comm link, the sound of murmurs and whispered voices drifted through the cab as the others moved into place. The air was frozen, the light eerie as they waited for the word to strike.

=0=

 

#50: Half Baked Alaska 

 

=0=At the Dimond Center Mall

They waited, the electronic noise from their radio was actual conversation among the mechs out in the field moving slowly through the shadows, their sensor equipment fixed on the vehicles that drove in and parked in front of the main entrance. Beyond the light in the darkness another truck moved. This one was black and heavy, a truck that was unlike any usually seen. The cab was empty and the hood ornament was a face with finials and wicked emptiness to the eyes.

It moved to the other side of the street that fronted the parking lot and stopped, shutting off. For a moment no one moved. Then two men stepped out, both of them wearing heavy clothing. They walked to the truck and a window rolled down, a figure leaning out to speak to them for a moment. They talked unaware that the figure was a hologram, then a man from the truck walked back to his car pulling out an envelope. He walking back giving it to the figure in the truck. They talked a bit more, then the window went up and the truck began to move off.

The two men returned to their car and began to turn to go in the opposite direction. As they did, a green and yellow Topkick pickup truck came out of the shadows moving toward them. They slowed and then turned going up the parking lot toward the street. As they did, a black Topkick pickup truck moved out and began an intercept course. A red Lamborghini parked in front of the street exit waiting with an aura of menace about it.

As all this was going on, a Porsche, a Ferrari and a Range Rover moved parallel and behind the truck that had pulled up, moving away with whatever the two men had given them. As the three Autobots rolled to cut the truck off it transformed. Moving swiftly, changing into a huge dark robotic form, it turned and raised a weapon pointing it at Jazz.

Lennox stepped out of Ironhide, the truck transforming, cannons coming on line as he rolled forward, turning to aim them at the Decepticon who was moving forward as Jazz transformed and jumped to one side. He had no time to bring his weapons up or to move out of the way. As the Decepticon fired he was hit with fire from Ironhide, knocking him off his peds and into the side of the building.

The Con's blast hit Jazz who was deflected just enough by the fire from Ironhide to fall and roll, his shoulder smoking as he struggled to rise. Across the street waiting to cut off anyone who came his way First Aid rolled over the curb, the center highway divider and up onto the curb of the shopping center. He transformed gun in hand and ran forward shooting as he crossed the parking lot toward Jazz. Jazz struggling lay back down, shots firing over his head as Ironhide, First Aid and Hound lay down fire at the big Decepticon, the sound of Sideswipe transforming and skating forward screeching behind them.

The Con turned struggling away to disappear around the bend of the center, moving toward Best Buy and the street beyond. First Aid knelt beside Jazz and waved the others off. Ironhide, Hound and the soldiers ran in pursuit chasing the Decepticon around toward the highway that paralleled the Center. Sideswipe skated off rushing to follow Springer around the back corner. As the pair reached the corner, the Con was already across the street moving toward the Pier One store and the interstate beyond.

A flash of fire drove them back and they leaned against the side of the Center, Decepticon fire from the back covering their brother's retreat. Then the fire stopped and went the other way allowing Ironhide and Hound to pursue.

As they cleared the street, Lennox looked back turning to cover everyone's traverse. A fire fight was going on at the other end of the Center, the lights of weapons fire bright. In his headset he could hear the chatter, swearing and orders called out as Springer, Sideswipe and Mirage battled two other Decepticons hiding in the shadows behind the Dimond Center Hotel.

Lennox could hear Optimus Prime over the top of it telling his team he was coming down. He looked up into the night and a dark form was falling, chutes finally deploying and it landed nearby with a heavy thud of peds hitting the ground.

"Autobots! I'm here!" he called out moving at a dead run toward the fire fight weapon drawn.

Lennox turning ran across the street dodging a car and a truck as he raced to catch up to Ironhide and the others. As all this was going on, the entire audio feed was rolling through the HQ's back in Diego Garcia and throughout the entire complex of the Autobot Embassy and HQ.

=0=Ratchet

He stood in Ops Center listening, hearing Ironhide's shouts and the odd grunt as he dodged fire. He had heard and seen the same thing for eons and it always was the same. Awful. It was easier when he was there but he wasn't selected this time. He had almost gone to Optimus and explained he didn't feel Ironhide was up to it but he didn't. Ironhide knew what to do and he wouldn't stand in front of him doing his duty.

He would stand and listen. He would listen like Trailbreaker. Like Prowl. Like all of them. He would wait and know that the caliber of enemy would never defeat the caliber of Autobot they fielded. They were the best and no one was better. That is how he managed as he listened waiting for them all to come back home. As he listened he knew Jazz was down. He mentally prepared for casualties and as he did he prayed to Primus that it wouldn't be Ironhide.

=0=Sunstreaker

He stood in the doorway of Ops Center. Bluestreak was sitting on a chair listening to the battle with a pensive expression. He walked over and knelt beside him laying his helm on Blue's knee. For a moment Blue just sat without moving, then he put his servo on Sunny's helm rubbing it with his thumb. Sunny relaxed, off-lining his optics as they sat together.

He had debated coming here but the unsettled feeling he got with that moment back in his quarters overrode any queasy feeling he had about affectionate behavior in public. They sat together listening like every Autobot in the facility. Sideswipe's voice could be heard cursing and laughing as he brought the battle to the enemy.

They could hear Optimus too and Ratchet glanced at Prowl noting only a calm expression on his face even as his wings betrayed him. Ratchet walked to Teletraan II and sat in an empty chair watching the screens as the battle continued.

:First Aid to Prowl:

:Prowl:

:I have wounded. Jazz took a round but he's field patched. Tell Ratchet we have a through and through in his right shoulder. I think the joint will have to be replaced.:

:He heard you:

:First Aid out:

They sat and listened, the battle waxing, waning and waxing again as they tracked the Decepticons. For a moment there was shooting and cursing, then the sound of jets activating. Firing followed furiously and then quiet. Sideswipe cursed as Optimus directed everyone toward the pursuit that was happening across the street.

There was the sounds of running and cursing, the screech of tires as some hapless human driving home from a bar braked at the sight of four giant robots and a handful of armed soldiers running across the street. The pounding of their peds, the sound of armor clanking and the powering up and down of weapons filled the silence.

Then the clash returned, firing and shouts, running and the sound of something lifting off, shots following it as it flew off with a roar. The sound stopped, then the sound of soldiers out of breath, shouts of soldiers identifying themselves as present were heard.

:Prime to Prowl:

:Prowl here:

:What does Teletraan say?:

Pause. :They're in the upper troposphere and heading out. The course plots them out of the solar system:

:Very well. We'll clean up here and get ready to evac. I identified two of the Decepticons. One was Swindle and the other, the one who made the transfer was Dead End.:

:Affirmative: Prowl turned and began to access files. :They were reported killed in the Fall of Iacon but apparently our data is faulty. What about the criminal humans?:

:They are in custody. The soldiers have them. We are going to retrieve the weapon as soon as they talk:

:Affirmative:

:Prime out:

The sound continued, the conversations between the soldiers and the Autobots focusing on retrieval of the weapon. The human criminals, the two who stepped out and one who waited in the car were cooling their heels on the curb in front of the Center, armed guards talking to them as they sat paralyzed with fear at the turn of events. Beyond them, the sound of emergency vehicles and police cars could be heard wailing.

Optimus walked back from Borders, crossed the road passing Best Buy and walked up the parking lot to where the three sat shackled and awaiting transfer to the federal authorities. He paused looking down at them his rifle in his hand. He was imposing and terrifying and they looked up at him with fear on their faces. "I would like to know where the weapon is."

They looked at him, then each other. One of them trying to rise slipped and sat hard. "I know."

"Good," Optimus said quietly.

=0=Ops Center

They coordinated with the N.E.S.T. Command in all feeds but the audio. They did not allow the feeds of the battle through Autobot channels out of house. In all other areas they shared everything. The Federal authorities took the prisoners into charge as the Autobots transformed, gathered up the N.E.S.T. soldiers and drove back to the airport for the trip to Homer to get the weapon. The criminal was so rattled he stuttered but they knew from his directions where they were to go.

Reaching the airport, they loaded up again and Silverbolt lifted off carrying them away silently. It was a short jolt to Homer, a small fishing town sitting literally at the end of the road on the Kenai Peninsula. Landing at the airport, Optimus followed by Ironhide and Springer drove off and down the road following the inlet toward the left turn that led to the Homer Spit.

A two lane road ran from the town out onto a flat narrow strip of land. Along that spine the road ran, winding out into a narrow spit of ground that was ground zero each summer for sports fishermen and the fishing boats that called Homer home. Driving in the dark, the lights of the town twinkling behind them, they reached the end.

The soldiers jumped out and Lennox following Prime's directions found the site where the weapon had been buried. A trap door covered with stones that was the top of a metal container was lifted and inside resting in the cold earth was a small plasma weapon. Lifting it out, lowering the cover back to preserve the scene, they walked back to Optimus, Springer and Ironhide. It was a short ride back to the airport and a longer one back to Diego Garcia but they arrived relatively unscathed.

=0=At Diego Garcia

They off loaded Jazz, the tarmac swelled with the ranks of Autobots that came forward to lend a hand. The weapon, a relatively small simple version of a lot of the weapons they were currently using was carried to the HQ for storage. Even though it was a piece of evidence it was taken into custody by the only force that could keep it safely out of the wrong hands.

Ironhide walked with Optimus. "We sort of shot the place up last night. I can only imagine what the talking heads will say about it."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, old friend," Optimus said grinning. "Get some recharge."

"And when will you?" Ironhide asked noticing that officers from N.E.S.T. were already waiting for Optimus.

"Sooner than you think," Optimus said grinning. He slapped Ironhide on the back and turned walking toward them.

Ironhide continued onward toward the hangar and Medbay where Ratchet was.

=0=Medbay

Ratchet was working on Jazz even as the rest of the team was reaching the hangar door. Jazz had been brought in, his wounds carefully field dressed. Mirage himself silent and intense stood nearby waiting. Parts were removed, parts were replaced and then First Aid took over finishing the closing steps.

Ratchet collected the ruined parts in a pan and turned pausing as he saw Ironhide standing quietly in the doorway. He smiled slightly and turned walking to the lab beyond. Ironhide pausing followed him, watching as Ratchet put the tools and parts in proper vats of disinfectant.

"Hey."

"Hey," Ratchet said turning to look at him. He stood a moment leaning on the counter, then moved to Ironhide embracing him emotionally. They stood together swaying and then Ironhide kissed Ratchet, a kiss of love and gratitude. Ratchet hugged him tightly. "Guess what?"

"What?" Ironhide asked rubbing Ratchet's back with his servo, swaying gently as he did.

"I sparked."

For a moment Ironhide held Ratchet and absorbed the comfort, then he stopped, staring at the back wall. He stepped back looking at Ratchet. Then it hit him. **"YOU'RE WHAT?"**

His bellow could be heard all the way to Ops Center. Prowl pausing looked in that direction along with the rest. Then he commed Optimus.

:Prime here:

:Optimus, I think Ironhide and Ratchet have something to tell you:

Prowl could feel Prime's smile through the comm link. :On my way:

Prowl grinned, a wholly beautiful thing.

=0=TBC

TBC 2010 (11)

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapters 51-60

Chapter 51: Chapter 51

=0=The Diego Diaries

#51: "Trine own self be true (Blue)."

=0=Medbay

They stood staring at each other, Ironhide's servos gripping Ratchet's arms holding him as if he couldn't let go. Which he couldn't. Let go that is. He just stared, all sorts of thoughts traveling through his processor.

/... **Oh, Primus**! … **I'm a genitor**... I'm a gen-i-tor... Ratchet is … what did the soldiers call it? … knocked up … Ratchet is **knocked up!** … I better not say that ... what do I do **now**? … this is so new … I'm a genitor … I could cry … I better not … I'm not a sparkling … **we're going to have a** **sparkling, a sparking!** … **Ratchet and me** … I **love** you, Ratchet! … what do I do now? … you'll tell me, Ratchet … I don't have a clue … **I'm a genitor** .../ Then he figured out what he had to do. He hugged Ratchet again holding him as if letting go would mean they would fall apart and be lost from each other forever. He held him like he was solid platinum. To Ironhide at that moment Ratchet was.

"This is nice."

The voice behind him pierced the intensity of Ironhide's emotions and he turned looking into the big smile and comforting presence of Optimus Prime. He grinned. "I'm a genitor. Ratchet sparked."

Prime's smile was impossibly big and he shook his head, the emotion of the moment overwhelming everyone. Prowl standing just behind Prime in the narrow corridor squeezed past and hugged Ratchet holding him for a moment to savor the miracle. They all knew it, the importance of this singular event and the change for all of them that it could signify. Ironhide, the internal emotional storm subsiding just a bit smiled. "A sparkling. The first one. Ours."

"I hope its the start of more," Prime said gripping Ironhide's arm. "More sparklings for Autobot City and our people."

Ironhide nodded, overcome for a moment. "I agree." He glanced at Prowl, then Prime with a grin. "So when can we expect yours?"

Prime laughed. Prowl shook his head, a smirk on his face. "He laughs," Prowl said grinning slightly. "Now," he concluded.

Prime looked at Prowl with a wary optic and Ironhide laughed. "Maybe we should give them the rule book, Ratchet."

Prowl grinned. Prime didn't.

=0=Bluestreak and Sunstreaker

Sunstreaker sat beside Bluestreak during the operation, his shoulder leaning against Blue's thigh. Blue had rested his servo on Sunny's shoulder but he hadn't spoken to him, a record of some sorts for the youngling Praxian gunner. Sunny uncertain what it meant stayed by him ignoring his own discomfort regarding public displays of affection.

By the time the event was over and the team was flying back home Blue was uneasy. He stood and walked away, hurrying out the door to somewhere. He walked past the throng of mechs who were relieved and gathered together to discuss the battles that had taken place, wishing they were there to be a part of it.

He hurried to the rec room pausing and wondering which way to go. Sunstreaker hurrying along behind him stopped at the door watching Blue turn this way and that looking for some place to go. Blue paused spying Sunny in the doorway, then walked to a table sitting down to rest his elbows on the surface, his wings raised high with tension.

Sunstreaker hesitating walked over and sat beside him scooting his chair next to Blue. He slipped his arm around the back of Blue's chair and leaned in close. Around them sitting and talking with relief and professional interest in the outcome were other mechs, oblivious to the drama between the two. More were drifting in and sitting waiting for Silverbolt to return. "Bluestreak, we have to talk."

"What about, Sunny?" Blue asked anxiety on his face as well as in his voice. He clasped his digits, staring at them, then Sunstreaker. "What do you want, Sunny?"

"I want to talk to you. About things," Sunstreaker stammered, internally sighing. It shouldn't be this hard. It wasn't just someone. It was Bluestreak. "I would like to talk to you about things some place else. This … isn't a good place."

Blue looked around, then looked at Sunstreaker. "I don't mind."

Sunstreaker thwarted rubbed his faceplates with a servo. "Blue, I was just reading a story that Sideswipe found on a website. People write stories about us. They make things up and they tell stuff that they like. It doesn't mean it applies to us. It's just for fun."

Blue looked at him a moment studying his expression, trying to gleam from his face what he really meant. "Do you **want** a trine?"

Sunny paused, confusion filling him. He felt the presence of Sideswipe in his processor, ever present even when he wasn't. "I don't know. I never thought about it until now. It was just you and me and I liked it. But you know how it is with Sideswipe and me, Bluestreak. I never hid from you how we're wired."

"Then you **want** a trine. You want to **share me** with Sideswipe." Bluestreak looked at him with unwavering optics.

"I didn't say that," Sunny said shaking his head. "You're reading things into this that I didn't say."

"Then **tell** me, Sunny, what you mean," Blue said leaning closer and imploring him with a soft pleading tone. "I don't know what you want."

"Not here, Blue," he said glancing around. "Some place else. We can talk there."

"And Sideswipe? What about him? Does he have a say? Should he be there **too**?" Blue asked whispering.

Sunstreaker stared at Bluestreak, his processor clouded with confusion and astonishment that his life could hit such a skid so quickly. Blue shook his head and rose, leaning down toward Sunstreaker. "Let me know when you figure it out." Then he turned and hurried away, fleeing back toward Ops Center and Medbay.

Sunstreaker watching him rush away felt an irritation rising in him. Rising himself, he walked to the hangar door to wait for Silverbolt and the return of his brother.

=0=Sideswipe

He rolled off the plane watching the stretcher bearing Jazz disappear into the hangar door. He was revved and the aftermath of combat still clung to him. He traded quips with the mechs congregating around the jet pausing with them, smiling and joking and as he did he searched the crowd for Sunstreaker and Bluestreak. Neither of them were here.

Not a good sign.

The strangeness of Sunny's mood since he left the island was on his processor, a moody uncertainty that was hard to quantify. It floated to him over their link and he didn't know what to make of it. He rolled inside slapping servos and trading insults, heading toward the shared quarters that he had with Sunstreaker.

=0=Medbay

First Aid took control of the patient trading information with Ratchet until Ratchet felt that he could leave. Nearby standing stoically to all but Ratchet's trained optic, Ironhide waited. He wanted to leave. Prime and Prowl had left, the bantering more than delightful. They were prime subjects to learn the Tao of Prank Warfare from the masters and he made a mental note to enjoy the hilarity of Prime's predicament.

Ironhide watched Ratchet, his optics never leaving his Only One. He didn't look different, just the same actually and Ironhide realized he didn't know a slagging thing about sparklings except that they were cute, Primus given and one would be his. He felt a swell of emotion filling him, the idea of a sparkling looking up at him with tiny blue optics and expecting his genitor, him, Ironhide to move the stars and the moon for him. He would. He would try. He would be the best genitor that ever lived and this sparkling would be the most loved sparkling that ever lived.

Ratchet turned pausing as he looked at Ironhide, a smile forming on his lips. Then he moved to Ironhide who took his servo and they walked from Medbay together. First Aid watching them go smiled. "Finally, you glitch heads." Then he turned back to his job again.

=0=Sideswipe

He entered the room and paused noting Sunstreaker sitting on his berth, a foul expression on his faceplates. "Sunny?"

Sunstreaker arose and spun grabbing Sideswipe by the arms. Spinning, he tossed him toward the door, jumping after him as he crashed through it and out into the asphalt roadway that ran through the facility and all its side roadways. Sideswipe fell on his back skidding, then Sunstreaker was on top of him pounding him with his fists.

Shouts rang out, footfalls came running and still they wrestled. Sideswipe blindsided rallied and rolled Sunstreaker pinning his arms over his head. He sat straddling his brother struggling to hold him down. "What the frag are you doing, Sunny?" Sideswipe yelled just before Sunstreaker bucked his body throwing Sideswipe over his head and upside down into the wall across from their space. It cracked and Sideswipe slid down landing in a heap. Rolling, he rose in time to meet Sunstreaker's headlong charge, the two twisting and turning this way and that as they tugged and pushed, fury on both their faces.

Ironhide and Ratchet walking together toward their quarters paused taking in the mayhem. Then Ironhide dropped Ratchet's servo, charging into the melee and grabbing each of the twins by their necks. He pulled them apart, the air filled with cursing and shouts and held them. " **ENOUGH!** " he bellowed dropping Sideswipe. He turned and pulled Sunstreaker away, tossing him to Kup and Springer who had come running at the sound of the fight.

Sideswipe jumped up and rolled forward trying to get past Ironhide but the big chaos bringer pushed him back pointing a digit in the younger mech's face. "Enough," he said, his voice low and menacing.

Sunstreaker ceasing his struggling in the combined grasp of Kup and Springer glared at Sideswipe. Ironhide turning from one to the other shook his head. "What is the **matter** with you two? You're **brothers** for Primus sake! **Brothers**!"

It became quiet, the two glaring at each other as they were held back from each other by imposing mechs standing between them. Neither spoke. Sunstreaker stood, his eyes averted and his arms crossed. Sideswipe wiping at a split lip that oozed energon stared at the floor. "I just walked into the room. He jumped me. I don't know what the **frag** he's mad at."

Sunstreaker glared at him. "Think about it a little, Sides."

" **Frag you** , Sunny," Sideswipe said hotly. "I don't know what the frag you're talking about, so **frag you**."

Sunstreaker jumped for Sideswipe, Kup and Springer restraining him. Ironhide stepping in front of Sideswipe looked at both of the mechs, at the mechs gathered solemn faced and quiet and at Bluestreak who had just arrived stricken in expression. He turned and shoved Sideswipe back glaring at him. Then he turned and walked to Sunstreaker moving him back with the intensity of his anger. "You are brothers. What would the rest of us give to say that? **We are one. All of us. One.** Today is the human's holiday. They call it Thanksgiving. They give thanks for what they have and for each other. Today is Thanksgiving." He turned looking at Ratchet who stood nearby watching him with emotional optics. The medico nodded, a slight smile forming on his lips.

Ironhide turned and looked at Sunstreaker, then Sideswipe. He shook his head. "Ratchet and I have good news and this day, Thanksgiving, is a perfect day to learn it. Ratchet is sparked."

The crowd was silent a moment, then murmurs arose out of the shock. Ironhide looked at Ratchet then turned facing the crowd. "We are going to witness a new birth of our people, the first sparkling to be born among us since before I can remember. How many of you have seen one? Too many of you haven't. That's the shame of it, isn't it? The lasting sadness of war and homelessness makes us forget who and what we are. But now ... now we're on the edge of renewal. We have a new home, new allies and hope." He looked at the twins, both of them looking at him with unreadable expressions. "You are **brothers**. You are **Autobots. We are one**." He looked at Springer and Kup. "Throw them in the brig."

Kup nodded and gripped Sunstreaker's arm pulling him away. Sideswipe his gaze lowered glanced at Bluestreak as he rolled past, Springer taking hold of his arm. Then they were gone and the crowd silent and uncertain at last moved, walking forward to congratulate Ironhide and Ratchet. Bluestreak looking wretched turned and walked quietly toward the brig.

=0=

ment here...

Chapter 52: Chapter 52

#52: Ebb Tide

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet

They sat on the berth each at one end facing the other. They didn't make a sound. Ratchet's optics were off line. They 'spoke' to each other over their bond, that silvery thread that held them together no matter how hard the turmoil of their life. They surged energy back and forth, Ironhide watching Ratchet's face, memorizing the expressions, the changing emotions that formed there. They were as music to him, those expressions and the softness of Ratchet's energy field pulsing gently toward him. He pulled it toward him and sent it back, the ebb and flow as warm as an embrace.

He watched Ratchet feeling his contentment, his joy, his hopes and dreams for their sparkling, their life together, their people and he felt proud. He felt proud that this mech was his, that he was so good and brave and that Ratchet loved only him. He wanted to embrace Ratchet forever and hold him forever, never letting go. "I love you," he whispered, the soft sound of his low voice a mere ripple in the love he sent to Ratchet from his spark.

Ratchet on-lined his optics, staring at the mech he had chosen from the first time he saw him, the big dark hulk of a soldier, a mech's mech, a warrior. He was the one. The Only One. Ratchet smiled and off-lined his optics again falling back into the ocean of warmth and fulfillment he felt washing over him from Ironhide.

=0=Brig

"I would like to speak to Sunny, Red Alert," Bluestreak said pausing before the jailer who was sitting at his station watching the compound and beyond via numerous screens.

"I can't let you, Bluestreak. You will need permission from the Officer of the Day."

"Who is that?" Blue asked shifting from foot to foot anxiously.

Red checked his screen. "It's still Prowl but shift is changing soon," he said.

Bluestreak nodded and turned hurrying away.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet

He touched the catch and the plates of Ratchet's chest folded back soundlessly. Light, soft blue light streamed out and Ironhide looked inside, his optics filled with wonder. The flame that was Ratchet, the silvery blue energy that flowed in the chamber was joined by something else, a smaller blue illumination. It circled and clung to Ratchet's spark, long threads holding it tightly and it burned brightly, the tiny size of it enchanting to Ironhide. He looked at Ratchet, the emotion in his eyes remarkable and then he reached in touching it gently.

The sensation of tingling passed through his digits and he removed his servo staring at the little spark trying to visualize it separated and alive, sitting on his hands, looking at him with the devotion only sparklings could have for a genitor. Ironhide tapped the catch and Ratchet's chamber closed, the light fading from the room but not from Ironhide's eyes.

He looked at Ratchet, feeling such enormity of emotion that coolant pooled in his optics and spilled over trailing tears down his cheeks. Ratchet reached out and wiped them, his expression as gentle and loving as Ironhide had ever seen directed his way in a lifetime of such expressions. Then Ratchet pulled him into his lap, Ironhide laying down on the berth off-lining his optics as Ratchet trailed shimmering sparkles of electrical energy along his back from his digits. Ironhide relaxed his body and surged his contentment and love through the bond getting it back from Ratchet in kind.

=0=In the Brig

Sideswipe sat on the bench that formed the berth for his cell, the shimmering energy bars that held him most of the illumination in the room. Sunstreaker sat on a bench next to him, the bars between them high enough energy to hurt if they decided to go at each other again.

They didn't.

They ignored each other.

For about a half a breem.

" **You** are a **slagger** ," Sideswipe said turning his helm to glare at his brother. "Would you clue me in?"

"You want to be with Bluestreak."

There it was. Out in the open. Sideswipe schooled his face to impassivity, then he looked at Sunstreaker. "You're full of it."

"Am I?" Sunstreaker replied looking at Sideswipe critically. "Open the link wider and tell me that."

Sideswipe looked away shrugging. "Whatever. Go ahead and believe whatever you want. You usually do."

"I'm right," Sunny said leaning back, resting his head against the wall. "You **know** I am. I know because I've felt it for a while."

"For the **sake** of **argument** ," Sideswipe said glancing at him with a critical optic. "What if that's true? So what? Bluestreak is loveable."

"He is."

It was silent a moment.

"Tell me what you want, Sideswipe," Sunny said looking at his brother with an expression that was hard to determine.

Sideswipe looked at him studying his brother's expression and wondered if he dared. "You already know."

Sunny dropped his chin to his chest, shaking his head slightly. "I know," he replied.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet

They lay together wrapped in each others arms. It was dark and quiet.

"Ratchet."

"Hm?"

"What do we do now?"

"Well, I behave myself and you are pardoned."

"Pardoned?"

"I declare the prank war over."

"But penalties and the treaty agreement..."

"Your words to those two miscreants paid any penalty that you owe, Ironhide."

It was silent a moment.

"I love you, Ratchet. I want you to know."

"I know, Ironhide. I love you too."

"What are we going to name him? We're still good for a mech?"

Ratchet smiled. "I wouldn't want anything else. I want it to look like you, with your pug nose and your finials. You have very attractive finials."

"I think your optics are the prettiest ever, Ratchet. I want it to have your optics and your build. You're sort tall and gangling. I'm sort of not."

Ratchet snorted. "You are a bit robust but that is a good thing sometimes."

It was silent a moment.

"What do you suppose the younglings were fighting over?"

Ironhide shrugged. "I saw Bluestreak. He looked terrible. Maybe they're fighting over him, the glitch heads."

"I hope not. I like Bluestreak and Prowl will snap them in two," Ratchet said snuggling his helm into Ironhide's neck.

"He will."

=0=Prowl's office

"I just don't know."

Prowl regarded Bluestreak, inevitably seeing the injured hysterical youngling that he and Ironhide had found wandering alone and dazed in the wasteland that had been their mutual home city. The bombing had been so intense that in all the confines of the city, under every searched boulder and fallen building Bluestreak was the only survivor found. One out of tens of thousands, even millions.

He had clung to Prowl begging the Autobot to take him to his mother. Prowl had found what was left of her under a burned out building, the remains of his genitor nearby. Bluestreak had sat in shock, his little door wings lying flat on his back, his optics as large as mech hole covers. He had gripped Prowl's servo and wouldn't let go. No matter where Prowl walked in the devastation, his own spark and that of Ironhide's crushed to nothingness Bluestreak had clung to him. Before the searching was over Prowl had taken him on as his own, getting legal custody of the slightly under aged youngling to ensure he would have a chance to recover and find his footing in the world once more.

"What did they say to you?" Prowl asked, a frown forming on his faceplates, the red of his chevron giving him a slightly menacing effect in combination.

"They really haven't ... at least Sideswipe hasn't. Sunny hasn't said he wants a trine but he also says he and Sideswipe are joined in a way that he can't describe. He said it was as if he was only half a mech without Sideswipe."

"What do **you** want? Do you want to **be** in a trine?" Prowl frowned deeper. **His** youngling wasn't meant to be in a trine, of **that** he was certain. His ambitions for Bluestreak's happiness didn't involve complicated and convoluted combinations with split sparked mechs. He felt his ire starting to build.

"I don't know. I love Sunny," he said in a soft voice looking at Prowl with miserable optics. "I know you don't approve."

"I **don't** ," Prowl said shifting on the couch, looking at Blue more squarely.

Blue looked at the floor, his expression miserable. Prowl feeling miserable too pulled Bluestreak into his chassis holding him in his arms. He leaned his helm against Blue's, the youngling gunner melting into his embrace. "I'm sorry, Prowl. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Blue," Prowl said, his expression setting into hard lines. " **You** don't have a thing to be worried about."

Blue on-lined his optics, blinking. "Oh," he said.

=0=Brig

It was silent. Red Alert left duty and Kup took his place sitting at the monitors watching the outside even as he kept an optic on the sulking duo in the cells behind him. He turned and regarded the two, a miracle of creation. They were precious to him, a couple of sparks after his own. Turning, watching the outside, he thought back to the day he saw them, two pugnacious smart afts looking for some sport. By the time he got through with their first day as Autobots they almost were ready to cut their losses.

But they stayed and the Autobots were the better for it. That they stayed gave them a place, a purpose and the love of a lot of mechs who both admired and feared them, especially Sunny. Kup wasn't afraid of the youngling. He loved him and he loved Sideswipe. This wasn't the first brig duty he had done with them and it probably wouldn't be the last. He grinned. Sort of made the circle closed that way he thought. Sitting back, enjoying the sight of the two silently seething, Kup watched the night pass by quietly.

=0=Prime and Prowl

"And that is why I am going to bash their heads together."

Prime watched as Prowl paced, his anger rolling off in waves. He sat back and enjoyed the show, the emotion not new to him. They had after all bonded and shared the throes of passion and other activities enough for him to know that Prowl had a lot of emotions. He just kept them under control. "What do you want me to do?" Prime asked, watching Prowl's wings quiver with agitation. It was a pretty effect.

"Nothing right now," Prowl said. "I'm going to invoke genitor's rights with Bluestreak."

"And that means?" Prime asked, a slight smile on his face.

"It means in Praxian Parental-Cultural law that they can't even speak to Bluestreak without me or my designated delegate present. I have already told Bluestreak and he understands. I think he agrees because he's so upset and confused."

"And you aren't?" Prime asked grinning.

"Oh, **I'm upset** ," Prowl agreed. Then he paused, a tough expression forming on his handsome face. "But I sure as the Pit am not confused."

Prime merely nodded with a smile before pulling the agitated Praxian into his lap. And for a while Prowl was neither agitated nor confused.

=0=

Chapter 53: Chapter 53

#53: "Oh, Optimus!"

=0=Brig

They were let out, a hearing scheduled for the next day with Prime to decide their fate. Rolling down the hallway, silently moving side-by-side, the two had already put the hard emotional anger behind them. What they struggled with was the future. What would they do about Sideswipe's admitted attraction for Blue and Sunny's possessiveness. It was on their processors when they entered their quarters, a new door already on its hinges.

The television was on and the story that Sunstreaker had read still onscreen. They stood staring at it, then as one sat. Sunstreaker pulled the datapad control up and ran through the list, both of them marveling at the number and variety of stories, kinks and combinations that were inferred about them through the imaginations of the writers.

For about an hour they read, being amazed at the pairings they themselves were hooked up to. Ratchet was the most common one and he was paired with one or both of them. There was a story where Blue was sparked by Sunstreaker who was a total aft hole about it. Blue ended up with Wheeljack and all ended well. Sunstreaker had another opinion about his reaction and Sideswipe sided with the author saying it was probably most likely how he would have acted and he liked the story a lot. They nearly fought again.

They put in names and found very few of their colleagues that were known to the public left out of the fun. Prowl and Jazz was probably the most common pairing, a thing that caused both of them pause. Then there was even Optimus Prime and Megatron, something that made both of them ill and agitated.

"That one is just wrong," Sideswipe said glancing at his brother. "Its almost as wrong as the ones posing Prime with Starscream."

"I would slag Starscream for his voice alone," Sunny said glancing at his brother. "You ever 'faced a Seeker?"

"No. You?"

"No," Sunny said shaking his head. "But I hear it tastes just like chicken."

Sunny ducked Sideswipe's fist by inches. "How about Optimus Prime and Ironhide?" Sideswipe said pulling up a story.

The willies took a moment to process, then they looked at each other grinning. "Let's," they said in unison. And they did...

"Two Moons over Cybertron, A Love Story

"Optimus looked at Ironhide, the big mech's form nearly as massive as his own. Ironhide had a flat nose that intrigued Optimus, his own nasal structure more pronounced..."

"Is this a story or a medical journal article?" Sunstreaker asked snorting. "Does Ironhide even have a nose? Who wrote this?"

"It's a story from Optimus_Sue. Isn't Sue a femme name?"

"Don't ask me," Sunstreaker replied leaning back to settle in for the story. "I have enough trouble with mechs to worry about femmes too."

"Prime getting turned on by Ironhide's nose." They both were silent a moment, then burst into laughter. "Keep going, Sideswipe. Scroll it slowly."

They read on …

"The moon rose over the Citadel as they stood together on the balcony. Inside the party went on but they weren't in the mood..."

"So this isn't a 'facing story?" Sunny asked.

"No. I think they weren't in the mood for the party."

"Scroll ahead. Get to the good stuff. That is if there **is** any," Sunny said grabbing at the control.

Sideswipe elbowed him and scrolled, pausing at the 'good stuff'.

"They swayed together, the moons of Cybertron casting a silver light on the room. They had stumbled in falling together on the berth. Optimus needy from a long life of self sacrifice fell on the big mech, his fingers digging under Ironhide's plating, finding and touching delicate wiring and tubes."

"Sounds like Prime is fixing his computer instead of fragging Ironhide," Sideswipe said laughing.

Sunny snorted. "Keep scrolling. I want to see if they go all the way or not."

"Open up for me, Ironhide," Prime growled sliding his hand down to Ironhide's codpiece."

"That sounds so bad when its put this way," Sideswipe said staring down at his own codpiece. "Codpiece. Sounds like a fish dinner."

Sunny chuckled. "Do you see the part where they were kissing each other like there was no tomorrow. I am trying to make that picture in my mind and I can't. I want to purge my tanks though."

Sideswipe smiled and they continued to read. "Optimus pushing Ironhide's legs apart lay down upon the big mech.."

"Big femme you mean," Sunny said with bitter laughter.

"Ironhide would ground you to dust," Sideswipe said looking at his brother.

"You're dreaming again," Sunny said continuing to read.

"The prong clicked … oh Primus … then they surged, their sparks blending and falling into overload, they cried out each other's names."

"Oh, Optimus! Optimus, sir!" Sideswipe said mimicking Ironhide.

"Ironhide! You are so tight! Oh please! Please!" Sunny said grinning wickedly.

They both stopped, looked at each other, then burst into laughter. Sideswipe slid down onto the floor searching for another story. "I don't know if I can look Prime in the face again."

"You better figure it out. We have a hearing tomorrow." Sunny shifted settling down on the floor. "What are you going to tell him?"

"Nothing. I will admit to fighting but the reason is my own," Sideswipe said.

Sunny nodded. "I think so."

=0=Morning in the rec room

A base wide announcement in Cybertronian was made that reached the Aerialbots and even Cosmos. It told of the good news of a sparking, then ordered that it be kept from the outside world for security and privacy reasons. The security included humans with curiosity and Decepticons with malice. It was given the level of a Prime directive making breaking the order a personal affront to the honor of their Prime in particular and Cybertron and the Autobot Armed Forces in general.

As the shifts changed Sunstreaker and Sideswipe found themselves waiting in the corridor outside the conference room while the Senior Autobot daily meeting went on inside. Standing stoically, they waited as people came and went, some of them nodding to them sympathetically and a couple here and there shaking their heads at the umpteenth time the two were facing Prime over their behavior.

Bluestreak coming around the corner paused, then turned and hurried out of sight. They saw him and were tempted to follow but they couldn't. It would mean one more slam against them.

The meeting broke up and mechs began to leave, most of them nodding good morning to the twins. Finally, Ironhide peering out called them inside. They entered and were directed to take a seat. They did waiting stoically for the dance to begin. Ironhide, Prowl and Prime were doing the honors.

"Well, it appears that you two were fighting rather violently I am told in the corridor and did damage to the area. I would like to know what you were doing and why," Optimus said leaning back for the story.

Prowl taking down the details didn't look up but his wings were up and trembling with tension. Ironhide himself feeling pretty mellow just sat and watched the two younglings he had helped train face the music yet again.

Sunny and Sides looked at each other, then Sunny leaned forward on his elbows. "We were fighting. We have no defense and we are ready to take our punishment."

"Why were you fighting?" Prime asked.

"That's personal. It has no bearing on our fitness and willingness to fight and go on assignment. It was just a personal issue we are working out together," Sunny said leaning back and folding his arms. Sideswipe kept his eyes on the table avoiding Prime's gaze.

"Does this have anything to do with Bluestreak?" Prime asked.

Sunny glanced up sharply then lowered his gaze feigning nonchalance. "That is personal, sir. We don't wish to speak about it."

"Sideswipe?" Prime asked.

"Sideswipe looked up and nodded. "What Sunny said, sir."

Prime considered them both and said, "Part of this hearing is going to be a legal matter. Prowl as you might know is Bluestreak's legal guardian and has been since he was underaged. He has decided to invoke a Praxian law that is within his legal right as Bluestreak's legal guardian."

Prowl looked at them laying the datapad down. "I am invoking parental rights as per Praxian Parental-Cultural Law, Declaration 19, Part 2."

"What does that mean?" Sunstreaker asked sitting up straighter.

"It means, Sunstreaker, you can't be around Bluestreak without my permission, my presence or the presence of another person of my choosing. For any reason, no way, no how."

It was silent in the room as it settled in. "That's slag." Sunny looked at Prime. "Bluestreak is an adult."

"According to Praxian law, a child is a child to a genitor for the duration of the life of the genitor. They have a lot of personal rights but they also have obligations to their genitor."

"Prowl isn't Bluestreak's genitor," Sideswipe said.

"Under Praxian law, Prowl has standing," Ironhide said. "I know we weren't Iacon but our laws were our own and they were designed to preserve the integrity of families. My own sparkling will have full rights as an adult but if I feel that anything is going to harm him I can invoke this law to protect him whether he likes it or not."

"But this isn't Praxus. This isn't Cybertron," Sunny said looking from Prime to Prowl to Ironhide and back to Prime.

"Our law is law here too, Sunstreaker," Prime said. "Prowl is within his parental rights to protect his sparkling, youngling or adult mech or femme if he feels that they are in harms way."

"But Bluestreak isn't." Sunny looked at them incredulously. "Blue is as safe with me as he could be anywhere. "And asking him to be in a trine is a safe thing for him?" Prowl asked with irritation in his soft words. "I don't have it in my thinking for Blue's happiness to be pressured into something like that if he doesn't want it."

"No one is asking, no one is pressuring," Sunstreaker replied.

"Then tell me something," Prowl asked looking at Sideswipe. "Are you in love with my youngling?"

Sideswipe looked at the mechs in the room and paused.

=0=

Chapter 54: Chapter 54

#54: "Slag, Part Deux."

=0=Hearing, Disciplinary Action: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker

"Then tell me something," Prowl asked looking at Sideswipe. "Are you in love with my youngling?"

Sideswipe looked at the mechs in the room and paused. It was so still he could hear the sound of Sunstreaker's systems working and the optics of everyone in the room staring nearly unnerved him. He nodded slightly, lowering his optics and Sunny shifted in his chair shaking his head.

"Well," Prowl said leaning back, a sour expression on his faceplates. He shook his head. "For the sake of argument, Bluestreak told me that this might be because you are both twins. I would entertain more information."

Sideswipe glanced up catching Prime's gaze. It was sympathetic and attentive, waiting for them to tell their side of things. It was his glory Sideswipe thought, Prime's decent fairness. He glanced at Sunstreaker, then sat back shaking his head. "We are joined, half and half make the whole. What he feels, I feel. And the same is for him as it is for me. It helps us win in battle and it helps us find each other when we get separated. I am his mirror and he is mine. Mostly."

"So you're not even **really** in love with Bluestreak. You just **feel** what Sunstreaker feels," Prowl said, his frown deepening.

Sideswipe glanced sharply at him, shaking his head. "No. Its not like that. He's loved other mechs and so have I and we didn't cross over like that. I felt nothing for them. But I do for Bluestreak because he's **loveable**. Totally loveable."

"He is," Prowl agreed. "And he's a … a special case. He lost his family and half his processor in the worst possible way and he's spent his younglinghood in the army fighting in a war that destroyed his life. He's not the same as a youngling growing up in a normal life. He's vulnerable."

"We **know** ," Sunstreaker said looking up to fix Prowl with a sharp look. "We would **never** hurt Bluestreak. We **love** him." He leaned back, his disquiet with personal disclosure of any kind let alone in the presence of others showing in his irritated posture and manner.

Prowl sat back again tossing the stylus he had worried in his hand onto the table. He looked at Prime shaking his head. "What a mess."

Prime looked at the twins, at Ironhide who raised his optic ridges and offered nothing more. Then he looked at Prowl. "This is your youngling. You have registered a formal complaint according to Praxian law. What do you want to do, Prowl? I don't have standing in this beyond a review for appeal hearing and there isn't one so far."

Prowl looked at him, his wings drooping slightly. He considered his options, the tearful conversation he had with Bluestreak before the meeting and his underlying angst that his youngling was involved with one let alone the possibility of two of the biggest pains in his aft in all the Autobot Armed Services. "I want the complaint to stand. I want them to **prove** to **me** , because I … because Bluestreak has interests in this that have weight and might mean more than my fears for him … they should **prove to me** that they aren't going to be wrong or hurtful for him. I want them to follow our law to the letter."

"Which means?" Sunny asked.

"It **means** Sunstreaker and Sideswipe that you can't evenbe in the same room with Bluestreak unless I am there or my designated representative. You can't even **speak** with Bluestreak unless those conditions are met even if you pass in the corridor. If you see Bluestreak and they aren't met you have to turn around and leave. It is up to **you** to prove to **me** that you have Blue's best interests at spark even when you're off line **.** And I **will** tell you, I am not convinced you do. This is **my** youngling. **Mine**. Do you understand?"

They nodded.

"You understand that if you break any part of this you will be in the brig. It's binding Cybertronian law and there will be penalties of brig time if you do." Prowl looked at both of them. They nodded albeit reluctantly.

"How do we get to see Bluestreak?" Sideswipe said.

"You have to ask me or my designated representative if they are available and then it can be arranged. You have to be in audio and visual range of me or my representative the entire time or no dice."

They looked at Prowl and finally nodded slightly. Sunny glanced at Prime who sat watching with a neutral expression. "Then who is your designated rep?"

"The only other Praxian on base. Ironhide."

They both glanced at Ironhide. He sat looking back. Then he grinned.

"Slag," Sunstreaker said glancing at his brother. Sideswipe nodded.

=0=Ops Center

They stood around the big table in the middle of Ops Center, information and datapads littering the top of it as they began to piece the puzzle together. The emails that they had detected from the Intel-Martin servers were analyzed and the information gleaned showed that Starscream was using an anonymous account to find out intel from the company and its employees through a listserv called First-Strike-Warriors. They also tracked him to other lists and emailing groups, all of them elite and exclusive.

They also concluded that Starscream was using dormant or criminal accounts to finance his rise in the shady side of the world. Criminals and thieves who couldn't contact police were losing their ill gotten funds and a few bankers here and there were losing their lives in 'mysterious' violent deaths tied to disgruntled clients.

Jazz released from Medbay was standing beside Mirage going over the diagram that they were building. "He has his tentacles in a lot of legitimate pies," he said grinning at Mirage. "Won't they be surprised to find out that they are schmoozin' with a 'Con."

Mirage smiled with a certain malicious disdain. "You can't buy class, Jazz. You either have it or you don't."

"Do I?" he asked smiling at the complex figure beside him.

"Do you have to ask?" he said arching an optic ridge as he squeezed Jazz' arm.

Jazz smirked. "I think we have enough here to turn the tables."

"I agree," Mirage said with his own smirk. "Time to make Starscream live up to his designation."

=0=Prowl

He paced in his office, the hearing ending in the way he felt it probably would when he had finished talking to Bluestreak just before. He had come to Prowl's office upset and uncertain, concerned about being trouble and concerned over the twins' fate. They had sat down and Prowl had explained the law, telling Bluestreak he wanted his cooperation on the conditions of it because he was going to enforce it anyway. Blue had nodded tearfully.

"I don't do this to hurt you, Bluestreak. I do it to protect you," Prowl said hugging the youngster to his chassis.

Bluestreak hugged him back nodding. "I know. I just hate all of the turmoil and Sunny being mad and Sideswipe is really a nice mech and Sunny seems to think that this is a thing we all three need to discuss."

Prowl smiled a moment, Blue's unfortunate tendency to rattle on becoming more pronounced when upset. He sat back and looked at Blue smiling gently. "I am doing this so there won't **be** pressure while everyone thinks this out. You know the conditions, right?"

Bluestreak nodded. "My best friend's genitor had to do this with their oldest youngling when he fell in love with an older mech and they didn't think it would work out so I know I can't be around them without a guardian or you present."

"How did that time work out? Do you remember?" Prowl asked.

"He didn't see that mech anymore. His genitors wouldn't relent and let the complaint drop so he couldn't be with each other. It was sad and I remember a lot of yelling coming from next door."

"Did he obey the rules?" Prowl asked.

"He did," Bluestreak said simply.

"I expect you to do the same," Prowl said feeling a tiny pinch of relief at Bluestreak's nod. "I don't want to hurt you. I want you safe and happy. That is what this is all about."

"I know. I love you **so** much. You **saved** me when there was no one left. But I hope you know that Sunny loves me and wouldn't let anyone or anything hurt me. He was going to beat up the mercs that time they ..." Bluestreak stopped as he looked at Prowl with big optics.

"What time?" Prowl asked, his optics narrowing, his arm sliding around Blue's shoulders. Blue told him.

He paced his office angry at the entire world. He would be calm enough soon but he was seething now. First, the trine business with the twins. Then the mercs interfering with Bluestreak at the firing range. He wasn't surprised Blue hadn't told him but it rankled. His youngling was **his** and he was **devoted** to him, as devoted to Bluestreak as he was with Optimus and the Autobot Cause.

No one and no thing would harm his youngling. Images of a small terrified little mech covered in his mother's energon crying and wandering helplessly alone in the wasteland that once was their home, serious injuries of his own evident came into Prowl's processor. He paused filing them away with effort. He stilled taking control of his emotions, beginning relaxation techniques so he wouldn't put a servo through the wall.

At last calming, he turned looking at his desk. Bluestreak was going to be fine he told himself. Bluestreak would decide for himself if he wanted to be with Sunstreaker but Prowl would be there with his conditions and his fists if necessary.

Moving to his desk, he sat and began to make the world turn.

=0=Medbay

Ratchet sat in his office reports stacked to the side, physical exams scheduled and the like undisturbed. He was reading up on sparklings and carrier health issues. Wheeljack and Perceptor were coming in the later afternoon and they would discuss protoform designs. Ironhide would be there then. Right now, he was helping lambast the twins' afts in the meeting he had just left.

He leaned back remembering his incredulity when Ironhide explained the 'Parental-Cultural Law, Declaration 19, Section 2'.

"That kind of law exists?" he had asked.

Ironhide massaging Ratchet's peds because the article he had read about carriers indicated that this would help their energon circulation nodded. "It keeps families from going to the Pit. No mech or femme can object no matter if they want to because genitors and creators have an overriding interest in their welfare no matter how old they are."

"What about abuse, Ironhide," Ratchet said moving his other ped within reach of Ironhide's until now unknown talented servos.

"Its very rare, Ratchet. I only remember seeing it happen twice, once to a relative. They were going to get into trouble and their genitors put an end to it. Mostly its through negotiation and then there is the chance for the youngling to see their 'true love' through a different perspective."

"The guardians and parents."

"Yep."

"Would you do that to our sparkling? When they're an adult?"

"Yep."

Silence.

"Good."

Ironhide just smiled.

=0=Sideswipe and Sunstreaker

They stood on the tarmac watching the troops moving toward Silverbolt and a routine patrol in Australia. Bluestreak going along as the shooter looked at them as he walked past. He smiled weakly, his wings drooping low on his back. They nodded, their expressions filled with longing and sadness.

The troops loaded and Silverbolt lifted off heading into the sky and lands faraway. The twins turned and headed back into the building.

=0=

Chapter 55: Chapter 55

#55: "Billabong"

Note: Updating alt vehicle formats is a hoot. Datsun is Nissan now and I have chosen a 2011 Nissan 370Z Roadster for Bluestreak. You can see it at Nissan dot com. (Had to do it that way. Addies don't transfer.) I made it a convertible because its adorable. -The Management.

=0=At Autobot City, Mars

Sideswipe helped pull heavy equipment out of boxes. They were from Earth, gathered together at the order of Prime and smuggled over the months into the compound ostensibly as energon production equipment, parts for medical purposes and Aerialbot components. The Autobots also said they were gathering together materials to make shuttles that would take passengers to the Oort Field, allowing at some unspecified future date that human scientists could see what lay beyond Pluto at last.

All of it was true. Technically, their constructions would allow all of it. Cosmos had been bringing loads from Autobot outposts and temporary refugee camps all over their part of the Alpha Quadrant, off loading at Diego Garcia every few days for nearly a year. To get all of it to Mars without raising eyebrows, they were loading mechs with the stuff, covering them with tarps, having them drive onto Cosmos and Sky Dive who had assumed a shuttle form to help with the transfer from Earth to Mars.

Once the loaded alt vehicles were on board, the shuttles would take off flying straight to a landing zone near Autobot City that was swept free of the thick dust that covered every thing. A road led to the settlement which was growing in shape and size every day. From the shuttleport, a long dirt road led to the entrance of Autobot City.

It was a big structure, mostly underground at the moment but designed to be defensible. Gun turrets were being constructed, built to the specifications of Wheeljack and the other engineers. Materials found elsewhere, some by their network allowed them to mix alloys that created hardened materials equal to those they used themselves or remembered from Cybertron.

They were bolstering the walls of the facility, laying miles of cables and wiring it to be hospitable. Until they built above ground they would be living underground here as well. There would be no windows but there would be lots of illumination. A series of solar constructions were already allowing them to work through the night and underground.

Medbay was large, filled with the requisite rooms and was being wired. Three layers below and to one side they had built a hardened armory and gun room. The Ops Center was next to the entrance, also underground for now and was almost complete.

Sideswipe worked quietly, his processor puzzling on their dilemma as he did. They had asked if they could take Bluestreak for a walk on the beach in the evening the next day and it had been granted. Ironhide would go along with them and he had veto power over anything they did while together. He was nervous and irritated but there was nothing they could do. Even if Bluestreak didn't want to go along with the complaint and he didn't know if Blue did or not, Prowl could still enforce it. They were applying Cybertron's laws and Prime was enforcing them. That part of his homesickness he could do without he thought as he hoisted a server onto a trailer.

=0=Australia

They drove silently down Peninsula Development Road 81 north of Lakeland in Queensland. They constituted a small convoy of trucks and vehicles, Bluestreak included. His alt vehicle form was a 2011 model Nissan 370Z convertible bringing up the rear. Ahead of him, Arcee in motorcycle mode rode by herself following Warpath who had arrived a week prior with Huffer and Grapple who were coming to work and live at Autobot City. He had chosen a Hummer as tough enough and "pretty" enough for his alt mode. Bluestreak had forgotten how vain Warpath was but when he was hanging out with Kup and Springer he was good company, loud and full of it. A more outgoing Sunstreaker he thought wistfully.

Leading the group was Springer, his green and yellow Topkick pickup truck at home in the farming area they were passing through. There was Decepticon activity reported south of Lakeland and they were going to scout it out. Nothing was too specific in the intel, just a lot of flashing lights in the sky that were moving too fast and when they weren't moving, hovering.

Bluestreak opened his sensors to the limit as he followed watching and listening for anything, pushing his personal predicament out of his processor as he concentrated, turning from mixed up lover to warrior without much effort at all.

=0=Ops Center, Diego Garcia

Prowl watched the screen that tracked the team from space. Teletraan II's satellites were fixed on the convoy, following it kilometer by kilometer. The intel was sketchy but sounded like Seekers. They were hovering over a place called Palmer River Goldfields Resource Reserve, coming at night and making the local population as well as the national government nervous.

Sending a team down to look around and scan for anything that might indicate Decepticon presence was the first step. Their allies were squeezing sources. That was step two. Jazz rising and walking to him with a smile was step three.

"He made the send," Jazz said turning to look at the sensor screen. "I wonder how long it will take for them to get there?"

"I don't think long. Best alert the Aerialbots that are here. I will message Springer and Silverbolt," Prowl said glancing as Optimus walked onto the command deck.

He made his way to Prowl pausing beside him. "What's the word, Prowl?"

"He sent a message and we have a spider bot tracing it. Ghosting it actually. We want to know all the routes it takes before it reaches Starscream. The 'lights' should appear at sundown on cue. I have sent the Aerialbots to support the ground team."

"Good," Optimus said nodding. He put his servo on Prowl's shoulder. "You didn't have to send Blue," he said softly, leaning closer to Prowl to whisper.

Prowl looked up at him, a slight tension in his wings evident. "I can't play favorites."

"You don't," Optimus said gently.

Jazz came back holding a datapad. "The bot made it to an account that Screamer uses to post on First_Strike. He is aware that the team is out there and that Springer is part of it. It is also going to two others." Jazz showed the datapad to Prowl and Optimus. They read it and their expressions were grim.

"I'm not surprised," Optimus said.

"Neither am I," Prowl answered.

=0=Nearing the Goldfield Reserve

They drove through very dry rocky country, stands of trees here and there bordering creeks that wend their way through gullies and low lying areas. It was warm but not excruciating like it was beginning in December. Temperatures could reach 110 degrees F during the Australian summer. It was actually rather decent and the soldiers on board the trucks were glad of it.

They reached campgrounds where the roads became problematic for Bluestreak and Arcee. Pulling off under a stand of trees, a creek ambling through, they transformed and huddled down, the sun setting on the horizon. It was cooling off and the breeze was dropping off. Springer looking at the sky calculated the time before dark. Turning, he sat watching out for soldiers as he did. Epps settling his men turned to him. "You figure they'll show themselves?"

"Hard to say what D-cons will do," he said thoughtfully. "They aren't especially bright."

Epps smiled watching as Bluestreak sat and pulled his rifle out moving to the edge of the trees to take watch. Apparently Springer had told him over their internal comm system. He envied that, direct access among the troops. He regarded Springer. "I hear you're a Wrecker."

"I am," Springer said regarding Epps. He had heard good things and what he had seen had borne them out. He was a good soldier.

"I hear its 'One Riot, One Wrecker'," Epps began pausing as Springer turned to look down at him. "What does your team do? Are you special ops?"

"That may be putting too fine a point on it," Springer replied, grinning. "If you had a job that was suicidal but necessary you sent us. If you had bad mechs who had to go you sent us. The impossible was what we did."

"Kup mentioned something called Operation: Volcano," Epps said settling in.

Springer nodded. "That was when we were going to retake Cybertron. The plan was to kill the top ten Decepticon assassins before the offensive. Megatron recalled them so that was aborted but that was the mission goal."

"That meant high casualties for both sides, right?" Epps said gently.

"Sure," Springer said looking up at the sky. "You don't become a Wrecker because you worry about that. Our job was to go to worlds the 'Cons had just about conquered and give them huge casualties before they sealed the deal. We were a blade at their throats, cutting and making it expensive."

"Springer."

He turned glancing at Bluestreak who was looking up, his rifle in servo. "I see lights."

They shifted moving farther back in the shadows, Arcee crouching beside Epps, her gun in servo. He glanced at her, this lone femme and wondered what it would be like to be such a minority. He had felt it in the course of his life but there had been men as well as women always there. She was a minute fraction of their population, the norm being Ratchet and Ironhide, not Ratchet and Arcee. It was strange he thought, getting his rifle ready.

The scrub brush that covered the ground offered no cover. The tree-lined creek they huddled at and two others farther out was it. Above them, the sound of jets could be heard and lights began to streak. They watched armed and ready as the light show continued.

=0=Ops Center

"I have buried a trace on their comm devices," Jazz said pointing on a screen the activity that the mole and his confederates were making as they communicated together. Optimus nodded.

"We have sightings," Prowl said turning from Teletraan II. "Springer has visual contact. Seekers."

"Tell them to watch and I give Springer freedom to act as the situation calls. The Aerialbots. When will they be nearby?" Optimus asked sitting down at the main sensor array next to Sunstreaker who was operations officer for the shift.

"They will be there in about four breems," Prowl said.

"Very well," Optimus said opening the comm line, the sound of the engines and the soft cross talk among the team filling the facility.

=0=Medbay

Ratchet paused listening to the sound of the patrol team, the sound of jet thrusters and walked to the door looking down the corridor. The Autobots off duty were moving toward the rec room congregating to listen once more to the latest interaction. He walked toward the rec room, passing First Aid going the other way. They nodded, continuing onward and as Ratchet reached Ops Center he met up with Ironhide. They entered together and walked to the command center where Optimus was sitting. They stood by offering their skills as the moment needed and listened as the patrol interdicted the enemy.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They sat together taking an energon break when the news reached them. The feed was available and they commed it on listening to the whispers and the sound of jets swooping nearby.

Sideswipe sat listening, then he heard Bluestreak's whisper, talking to Springer about the overhead view. His spark squeezed and he sat up straighter listening hard.

=0=Australia

The lights began to drop lower and three of them landed. Two more stayed overhead flying seemingly aimlessly.

:Springer to Prowl:

:Prowl:

:How long until the Aerialbots get here?:

:One and a half breems:

Springer considered that, then looked at Warpath and Bluestreak, Arcee moving closer to his side. "I don't know what they're doing but the Aerialbots will be here in a breem and a half. They will engage the ones still in the air. And we will engage the ones on the ground." Springer looked at Bluestreak. "Cover me, Blue. I'm getting closer. That creek ahead. I'm going to the trees."

Blue nodded and moved closer focusing his rife on the trees ahead. Springer moving with great agility and silence for a figure twenty-five feet tall cleared the distance in seconds, fading into the trees. Beyond him, lights blinked and something moved.

Epps, his rifle in hand looked up at Arcee. She was watching Springer seeing through the darkness to where he was hunched down moving slowly through the trees to the edge closest to the 'Cons. "What do you see, Arcee?"

"Springer is getting close. He will be at the edge of the trees in in nanokliks," she whispered. "They appear to be moving towards us." She looked at him. "Stay in these trees unless you have to move out. Don't try and engage. These mechs are out of your league." She paused as if listening, then looked down at him. "I have to go." She rose and rolled silently across the scrubby ground toward Springer.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

Sideswipe listened riveted by the silence and glad for Bluestreak that Arcee and Springer were there. They were phenomenal soldiers and Blue would be safer with them.

=0=Ops Center, Diego Garcia

Sunstreaker managed the data downloads from Teletraan's satellites. They were tracking the Seekers and it was being fed to the ground team and to Autobot City where the defense computers in the Command Center were being on-lined for the first time. They were also sending to the N.E.S.T. HQ, sharing information as usual. He thought about Bluestreak and the others. He wanted to be there but if he couldn't be then it was good that Arcee and Springer were.

Prowl, his door wings reflecting his tension listened as all hell broke out.

=0=

Chapter 56: Chapter 56

#56: Feint

=0=Australia

The shooting was continuous. So was the cursing. Prowl listened with an icy servo gripping his spark. He heard Blue's voice calling out to Springer. Screaming out to Springer would be more accurate, then shooting and the sound of someone running very fast, stopping and shooting again.

The sound of jets revving, the sound of them screaming in for the kill all reverberated throughout the facility and everyone was rooted to the spot listening. In the N.E.S.T. HQ it was no different. Those on duty worked with the same urgent efficiency, their voices as calm and professional. They sent and received information, the Autobot's live visual feed filling the screens. Night vision views of the battle danced across their screens too, an innovation for this mission alone.

Colonel Fulton running the show from his HQ looked with the same tension at the event on the screens before him as Optimus Prime did in his.

=0=On the ground

They came down from above, diving quickly and laying down fire between Springer, Arcee and the others. Blue stepping out of the trees fired up, catching the Seeker with two well placed shots. Smoke and flame burst out of its undercarriage and it zoomed off disappearing into the darkness. Stepping back, Blue hunkered down watching ahead as it was silent a moment.

Then shots were fired from Springer's position and the sound of something big running toward them was heard. Blue rose glancing down at the soldiers. "Don't come, Robert. This will be bad." Then he ran forward heading toward the trees following Warpath who was already ahead of him.

In Ops Center, they listened, fear gripping Prowl with icy digits. He looked at two of the visuals, the jerking images indicating Blue and Warpath running. They heard the shouting, picking out the voices among the noise of shooting, the strafing of a Seeker and then it was quiet again.

The four views shown on split screens were looking around, the visuals darting back and forth. Then Springer's saw a huge black shape and he turned moving away firing. There was a null blast and his screen went black. Arcee moving toward Springer, shooting as she went glitched and went black.

Blue's voice yelled their names and there was shooting, his visual feed showing things moving too fast to make out. A blur of colors, shapes rising swiftly away and Blue running, the muzzle fire of his weapon flashing ahead of him, ahead, then upward. He paused hearing Warpath shouting and then turned running toward him.

It was dark and the Seekers were leaving, the sound of their jets becoming less pronounced, more far away even as the soldiers poured fire after them. Blue's visual reached Warpath, the soldiers arriving at the same time. He was down, his wounded leg flashing past on the screen as Blue looked at it, then back up to him. Warpath was cursing and looking up at the sky, his weapon still trained on it. "Where's Arcee? Arcee! Springer!" He called to them but no one answered.

Blue looking all around them, his weapon following his point of view, cast around seeing and sensing no one. The Seekers were gone. And so was Arcee and Springer. The churned up ground around them offered nothing. Overhead, the sound of jets could be heard and Blue stood pointing his rifle upward. "Move! Move to the trees!" he shouted stepping forward to fight.

"Blue! Aerialbots," Warpath said before laying back, pain overtaking his spirit at last.

The sound of Aerialbots landing and hurrying toward them was music to Prowl's ears. "Prowl to Bluestreak."

"Bluestreak, Prowl." Blue sounded jerky. He was running toward the last position he could remember seeing Arcee and Springer. He looked and saw nothing but churned up soil and broken trees. There was no energon and there were no Autobots. "Prowl, I can't find them. Arcee and Springer. They're gone."

Prime sitting and listening glanced at Prowl. Prowl pausing turned and walked to Teletraan II. He bent over it, working on something for a moment and then turned looking at Prime. "I lost their signal in the Oort Field."

Prime nodded. "Get the team back here."

Ratchet and Ironhide staring at the sensor screen glanced at each other. The Oort Field was a very, very big place.

=0=California

He sat parked in front of the house, trunk open and engine idling. Inside the house, Sam and his family were finishing up their evacuation. Sam had deposited baggage in his trunk and Bee closed it opening a door for Sam and his dogs. His mom and dad locking the dark house ran forward climbing into the Camaro. Settling back, doors closing, Bumblebee pulled out moving off into the early morning gloom for Vandenburg Air Force Base and a C-17 ride to Diego Garcia as per orders from Prime.

They hadn't argued, understanding that this was their life now. They even had bags packed against just such an eventuality and so with a quick run through of their house they were ready to go within ten minutes of the alarm.

Bumblebee, his sensor net cast wide rolled out onto the freeway, the early morning commuter traffic beginning to pick up. Behind him in a new alt mode Barricade followed. He was a Mercedes Benz, a nice powerful sedan he considered. He could move up and get close, perhaps ram the little Autobot mini-con and have some mayhem before finishing him off. He however hadn't figured on morning traffic. All his efforts to move up on Bumblebee were thwarted by the kamikaze drivers of Southern California, road warriors in their own right.

By the time the Autobot reached the base entrance it was too late to plant Bee upside down in the ditch again. Barricade rolled past slowly watching as Bumblebee cleared the gates and his prey, the Allspark **AND** Bumblebee slipped away.

Again

.

He rolled away fuming.

Again

.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

It was silent in the rec room as the crew sat listening. Arcee and Springer were missing, presumably taken by the Seekers. Warpath was injured and Bluestreak was intact giving cover for the Aerialbots and the evacuation. Sideswipe listened, tension informing every rivet and when the Aerialbots signaled that they were taking off he relaxed only then. He tossed his energon into the receptacle by the door, glancing at Huffer and Wheeljack. "This is going to be bad."

They nodded stunned at the development as well.

=0=In the Oort Field

They were dumped unceremoniously into two cells, each of them charged with bars of energy designed to pacify the inhabitants. Where they were they didn't know and they couldn't alert Earth because the 'Cons had disabled their internal communications. They feigned unconsciousness and listened aware of the precarious position they were both in.

They could hear heavy treads. Seekers. Then a distinctive voice spoke. "You did well, Thundercracker. You got one more than I expected."

"It was fortuitous considering the damage we took," he replied.

"But worth the effort. Not only did we get Prime's bond mate, we got his youngling femme as well," Starscream said, his pleasure only exceeded by the leverage he had just acquired over the Autobot leader who haunted his dreams and thwarted his ambitions. "We need to wait and see what they do before we contact them."

"And these two?" Thundercracker asked.

"They are not to be molested or harmed in any way. Until we see what Prime is willing to do to get his bond back, we want them in good condition."

With that, they turned and walked away.

Springer lay a long time on the floor before on-lining his optics. A cursory examination located the surveillance system and he shifted slightly peering at Arcee. She lay still as well. He hissed slightly watching as her optics opened slightly. "Arcee."

"Springer."

"Don't move. They're watching."

"What now?" she asked.

"We wait," Springer replied off-lining his optics once more.

=0=Daniels

He sat by his computer, a heavily encrypted device provided by the computer geniuses at Intel-Martin and read the news. Their contact, High Flyer was giving them the word. They had captured two Autobots. But not just any Autobots. These two were targets of high value apparently. He sat back digesting the news. Nast and High Flyer, a billionaire who wished to remain anonymous even as he assisted them with funds and intel were discussing the event that had just transpired. Seekers had taken two Autobots, the ones designated Springer and Arcee. It had been a shoot out and even though there were minor casualties on both sides no one had died.

He looked at the screen. Another email had pinged. It was from High Flyer. He opened it and read the message...

"I have been informed that the Autobots taken have more than just the usual value to the Prime. The Autobots taken were family. Springer is his bond mate and Arcee his femme, his daughter. I will try and get more information from my sources. Stand by. -High Flyer"

Daniels sat silently trying to digest what it all meant. A bond mate … wife or perhaps husband … or what passed for both among their kind ... and a daughter. How did a robot have a daughter? And why would a machine need a spouse? It stuck in his craw sideways and again, he felt the revulsion that such beings were on the Earth moving among them with their alien strangeness. A bond mate. A mech who had a bond mate who was a mech. Or at least he assumed Springer was a mech. He had a daughter apparently. Why didn't he have a female bond mate? What the hell?

His computer pinged again.

Nast.

He opened it and read the email...

"I got the word from High Flyer. I don't know how he finds this out but our friend in N.E.S.T. HQ just confirmed it. Either High Flyer has his own moles in N.E.S.T. HQ that we don't know about or he has contact with the Decepticons. Either way, we have the advantage. We will always be one step ahead of them. I am coming out to pick up the bodies of the two morons who died and get the other employee. He's ready at last to go. I want to see them when I get there. I want to see this Prime and these Autobots myself. Be there and make it happen, Jase. -Bill Nast

C.E.O.-Intel-Martin

Houston, Texas

Daniels considered Nast, the man who would finance his way to the Congress and beyond some day. Between him and High Flyer, his path was free and clear. He smiled and sat back sipping his beer, waiting for more emails to come.

=0=Ops Center

"Nast is coming," Ironhide said nodding. "Should be interesting. Apparently, they want to see what you're made of."

Prime nodded glancing at Ironhide. "They will," he said, his voice low and calm. "Count on it."

=0=

Chapter 57: Chapter 57

#57: Feint, Part Deux

The Diego Diaries: Feint Part Deux

=0=Ops Center, the next morning

"They are here, sir," Red Alert said turning to look back at Optimus who was sitting at the center of the command deck going over the next step for the recovery of their people and the push back of the Decepticons.

He looked up and nodded, glancing at Prowl and Ironhide. The three rose and turned walking out the door to the flight line where Intel-Martin had landed their jet. They were coming to get the dead and the injured. They were also here to size up the opposition. The opposition was also here to size them up as well.

=0=Near the Autobot HQ

The day was warm, in the 70's with a light breeze. Prime walked out of the complex with Prowl and Ironhide by his side. They walked across the tarmac to the jet waiting off the main runway. It was emblazoned with the logo of Intel-Martin and was dispatched to carry the bodies of the two men who had lost the game of chicken with Ironhide as well as the survivor.

Three ambulances were pulling up as they reached a respectful distance, medics and orderlies hopping out to walk to the back to unload the caskets and move them onto a transport pallet. Others worked to move a guerney carrying a man still in great need of medical attention. Several others were congregated around the plane, one of them very well dressed. With them talking in a huddle was Jase Daniels.

"Well, we know who holds his leash," Ironhide said folding his arms in disgust.

"Always good to know," Prime said, his optics taking in the entire scene. The caskets were hauled to pallets and strapped down, then the orderlies stepped back as a forklift began to move them one last time. A military hummer pulled up and Colonel Fulton climbed out walking to the men with a clipboard under his arm.

"Army triplicate," Ironhide said with a humorless grin. "Same here, same everywhere."

Prowl glanced at Ironhide, then the Colonel, the comment finding resonance in his processor. He turned to Prime, looking up with a questioning glance. Prime looked down relaxing unconsciously. "He wants to talk to you. They could start a public campaign. They have a number of public relations firms that do their bidding. It could disturb public opinion against us."

Prime nodded and looked at them again. "Wait here," he said moving toward the plane and the people gathered there. He strode like a Prime, like a leader of worlds, like a warrior with a proud illustrious lineage to uphold, like someone who had forgotten more about class then the group of them would ever learn. He caught their eye almost immediately and they turned watching him approach, their conversation stilled. When he reached them he paused, nodding to Fulton. "Colonel."

"Prime," Fulton said nodding. Then he introduced the group to Optimus. "This is Thomas Jaspers, Field Operations Manager for Intel-Martin, this is William Nast, C.E.O and President of Intel-Martin and this is August Temple, their pilot. You know Daniels."

Optimus nodded, a cool optic going from one to the other, memorizing and filing them away for future reference.

Temple stepped back removing himself from the conversation, thus showed himself to be of no consequence in the matters at hand. Nast and Jaspers glanced at each other, Daniels seemingly indifferent to the whole moment. Then Nast stepped forward looking upward at Prime. "Even in these circumstances, it is an honor to meet you, Mr. Prime."

"Prime is sufficient," Optimus replied, his tone cool, even regal. "These circumstances could have been avoided."

"We are evaluating the findings," Nast replied. "We don't have a position on this matter at the moment. We are looking through the legalities before we take any measures or positions on the whole business."

Prime considered him, a bureaucrat without a spark in his estimation. A drone he seemed, droning on for the sake of financial and ego gratification, nothing more. "We have diplomatic status and will exercise it to protect our own interests. You might review the treaties that were signed by your country and the United Nations. I am serious about the protection of my soldiers and it would be in all our interests if you would pass that on to yours."

"Are you threatening us?" Nast asked, his expression smoothing into a cypher, a state that Optimus couldn't decode.

"I never make threats," Optimus said. "I make promises and I keep them."

Nast nodded, considering that. "I will remember it."

"Do it," Prime said. He glanced at Fulton, nodding, then turned and walked back to Prowl and Ironhide, his affect one of great power and dignity. He had nearly reached both mechs when Nast called out. Prime turned and looked at him.

"I'd like to talk to you. Privately," Nast said walking forward.

Prime looked at him and waited. If Nast wanted to speak to him he could come all the way over. He did. Prowl and Ironhide made no effort to move and when he got to Prime he waited. They waited too. "I wished to speak to you alone."

"You assume my people speak your language."

Nash nodded considering that. "I want to know how we can work together."

"On what?" Prime asked.

"The Decepticon problem. It would be a great advancement for you to share your technology," Nast said. "I know you have treaties and rules. But this isn't Cybertron. We can be of great benefit to each other, you and me."

"I seriously doubt that," Prime replied. "Is there anything else?"

Nast looked at him, at the two big mechs standing nearby and smiled. "We're not enemies."

"Your goon ran into my soldier on purpose. Your record as a mercenary is disgusting. You have no honor. I don't believe we are friends. But we could become enemies easily," Prime concluded, his voice filled with menace.

"That would be too bad," Nast said quietly. "Things happen."

"That road runs both ways," Prime said concluding. He turned and looked at Ironhide. Then he turned to Nast. "This is Ironhide. Your goons hit him." He turned to Ironhide. "Do you wish to make a comment to Mr. Nast?"

"Yes. Mr. Nast, frag off."

Nast looked at Prime. "I thought you said they don't speak my language?"

"They don't," Prime said smoothly. "None of us are fluent in coward." With that, he turned and walked to his mechs who turned and walked away with their Prime. Nast watched them go and then turned walking back to the Colonel, Daniels and his two men. He reached them, shaking his head. "We could use about two of those on the payroll," he said signing off on the caskets.

Fulton taking the clipboard scowled at him in disgust. "Mr. Nast, there isn't a price in the universe that would compel Optimus Prime to stoop that low." Without a futher word, he turned and walked to his hummer, climbing inside. Without a further glance, he sped back to his HQ.

Nast watched him go, his mind considering a number of possibilities. Then he turned and his party walked to the plane climbing aboard and buckling in for takeoff. Daniels remained on the tarmac watching them until they disappeared. Then he turned and began to walk back to his SUV unaware that they were on the sensor grid of three Aerielbot Autobots the whole time.

=0=Far away

They slid energon into the cells repowering them as they did. They had removed their restraints earlier and it had made the difference. Springer sat leaning against a wall sipping his energon, exploring the area with his sensor grid and his optics. The ground underneath him was cold dirt and the walls very thick roughly cut stone. It felt underground to him, like a deep cave or lower levels of a dungeon.

Footsteps gave them pause and they glanced at each other, syncing together as they relaxed and feigned disinterest. The footsteps were heavy ... a Seeker was coming. They waited and sure enough, Starscream with Swindle walked toward them out of the darkness. They paused, the Seeker perusing them. "Springer."

"Starscream."

"I hope you aren't too inconvenienced. I brought company along for you. It's always good to have company, especially family."

Arcee regarded Starscream, amused that he had made such an error but the fact that he did hadn't been that hard to square. The humans were complex, layers on their layers. Anyone could have made a mistake and Starscream had. His spy had fallen for the prank too. Springer sat quietly sipping his energon and she did too, waiting for Starscream's ego to become agitated. It was at moments like that he sometimes made his mistakes.

"Tell me about Prime," Starscream asked.

"Why?" Springer asked. "What do you want to know about him and why do you care?"

"Curiosity," Starscream replied. "One is lucky to know their opponent well."

"He's Prime," Springer said simply.

"And you?" he asked. "Is he just Prime to you or is he something more?"

Arcee shrugged.

"Well, we shall see," Starscream said smiling. "We shall see what Optimus Prime will do to get his bond mate and his youngling femme back."

They stared at him and then turned walking away. Springer watched him, then glanced at Arcee. "I almost feel sorry for him."

Arcee grinning slightly nodded. "You and me both.

=0=Ops Center

Red Alert worked quietly. Beside him running the search and rescue was Jazz and Prowl. They had sent the Aerialbots off, the four of them changing alt vehicle formats into space shuttles, their original alt forms. They were going to search the solar system heading into the Oort Field after a cursory scan of the planets beyond Earth. The Oort Field was the most likely place to find their missing people. They would go there. All the data that they collected would be transmitted back to Earth and Teletraan III to sort out and collate.

They would get into the Oort Field, following the trail until it disappeared, then scan every large Apollo body out there until the transponders in Arcee and Springer pinged back that they were found.

Then the real rescue would begin.

=0=Nearby

Bluestreak sat in the rec room nursing a cube of energon. Nearby watching with a pained aggravated expression, Sunstreaker watched his lover. Bluestreak was miserable. Sideswipe was miserable and overdue back from Autobot City. Sitting and thinking, he counted the ways that Prowl was miserable too, none of them repeatable in polite society. Frustrated, he and Blue sat staring at each other with lonesome optics as the miserable day droned on.

=0=

Chapter 58: Chapter 58

#58: Mole

=0=Ops Center

Jazz studied the intel from the night before and the newest this morning, rising to walk from Ops Center to the rec room. He scanned for Prowl who was taking a break. Catching his attention, Prowl arose and came to Jazz, following him out as they walked toward the N.E.S.T. HQ. It was warm and a slight breeze kept the temperature in the 'perfect range' according to most of the humans they encountered. They passed troops and nodded, pausing with a couple to chat and by the time they reached the hangar where the teleconference was being held Prowl was up to speed.

They entered walking down the middle, avoiding the edges which were crammed full of equipment and their technicians, other men and women running here and there doing work that required it. There was also a handful of civilians from the Pentagon and the State Department who worked at the base as a full time assignment as well.

Few did more than glance up, so common a sight was it to see Autobots come and go. One did pausing to look at the two as they walked toward Optimus who was in conference with the Pentagon and the State Department. They waited until he could turn and then began a silent conversation together. He watched them, wondering what they were saying as he sat no more than ten feet away. He wondered what mayhem they were concocting to get their two comrades back.

He had sent texts to Intel-Martin's private mercenary bulletin board, First-Strike-Warriors telling them of the comings and goings of the big bots. He had been lulled into more than that by these same people who wanted more than to just 'know about them as interesting military-related curios'. Nast and his company began to woo and groom him for the role he now played. It wasn't hard.

A great deal of money was accumulating in an account in the Cayman Islands and promises of a good role in their organization once he was out of the Army was another incentive to have him be their mole. It wasn't ideological like it was with Nast. He just wanted a comfortable life and a career that could give him all the autonomy and adventure he wanted for himself. In short, he was a born mercenary.

Prime paused he noticed, thinking perhaps of something. He once again felt admiration for what they were, how they were made and what they could do. Unlike Nast, he didn't find them odd, creepy or strange. He had been around them long enough to understand their strengths, their way of life and their fearless warrior ethic. He admired it, enjoyed seeing them and loved their alt vehicle forms. It was one of the great joys of being stationed here for a lot of the military and civilian men and women, seeing the incredible array of phenomenal, often concept cars, planes and trucks. Seeing them transform back and forth, knowing they were alive and sentient was a miracle to watch, a marvel of the universe in which they all lived.

Everyone had favorites and the two Lamborghinis were among the most remarked about and enjoyed. In or out of vehicle format, they were incredibly admired and discussed. They were also the most feared to be around, the uneven temperament of the yellow one evident. But they were often observed by groups of soldiers who came to see them when they worked on the obstacle course or in particular, when they would practice and spar with each other.

Right now, he knew that they were working to retrieve the femme, Arcee and the Topkick mech, Springer. He had heard about the Wreckers and their fearsome reputation as the last resort special ops team of the Autobots by accident and then by cultivating Kup who loved to yarn. He admired Springer, often seeing him with Kup lounging in the sun, a laconic figure of poise, humor and palpable competence. He was a soldier among soldiers. He had even ridden in Springer's bed once when they had been transferred from an exercise to the hangar when it began to pour down rain.

He had been told to give his controls inside information on a plan that High Flyer had told them he had discovered. Flyer told them that Seekers were going to be in Australia and that they were going to be working on a 'grab'. He had considered that, wondering who among the many Autobots in Diego would be the ones sought. He was to keep them informed when the group was sent and the aftermath. Who would be involved? That was the main question High Flyer needed to know. Why? They didn't tell him.

He sent the intel. Bluestreak, Warpath, a new Autobot, Arcee and Springer were going. He sent it and was told to monitor the situation, to tell them if anything changed and the outcome afterward. He did. The Seekers showed up, the encounter happened and two of them, Arcee and Springer were taken. He felt only a twinge of guilt. Things like this happened in this business, the business of war. You lived and sometimes you died.

Prowl and Jazz nodded to Prime and turned walking out. He watched them, admiring their form and beauty. Jazz seemed cool, just **cool**. He had a perfect name for himself he considered. A name that fit his personality. Jazz was a **very** much admired Autobot among the troops. Prowl was harder to know. He had door wings too which he had been told were sensor devices and highly sensitive to touch. An airman had found that out when he had accidentally slid his hand along the edge of Bluestreak's door wing soliciting a strange response. It not only came from Bluestreak but from Sunstreaker who turned and glared holes though the airman. Profuse apologies aside, the airman never felt comfortable around Sunstreaker again. But then most people didn't.

He was seriously hardcore.

Both Autobots were tall, Jazz about 17-18 feel and Prowl about 20-21 feet. That still made them notably shorter than Prime who was at least 28 feet tall. Prowl had to look up at a sharp angle to see Prime. Even a tall figure like Prowl looked small and insignificant around someone as massive and brawny as Prime. He shook his head, his admiration for them filling him again.

He had studied them a great deal trying to learn as much about them as he could, finding it not only personally rewarding but useful in his new found role. There wasn't anything that High Flyer and Nast didn't find interesting. The biggest focus after where and what they were doing were the personal details of their lives together.

He had heard the rumors about Ironhide and Ratchet. After thinking about it a while, noting the lack of females among their ranks, he decided it didn't matter. Alexander the Great had a male companion. Together they had conquered the world. So what?

Ironhide was one bruising bot and someone whose controlled mayhem he respected. The fact that he looked just about the baddest of all of them was another plus. Ratchet? He had little experience with the yellow medico but he had heard among the troops that he was brave, fought well and was the best medic their kind ever had.

His favorite bot was Springer. The irony that he was the tool that allowed his capture didn't resonate in his head. It was just business. Turning to his work, one eye on the big Autobot commandant before him, he put it all out of his mind.

=0=Intel-Martin HQ, Houston, Texas

Bill Nast sat in his office atop a tall tower in downtown Houston, Texas. Floor to ceiling windows gave him a panoramic view of the entire Houston downtown area. His phone call just concluded had pleased him a great deal. High Flyer, an enigmatic billionaire who was supportive of his ideas and positions both financial and ideological had called and finalized the plans they had been working on for a long time. It also confirmed something he had been guessing at for a while.

High Flyer had contact with the Decepticons. How he did, Nast could only guess. His own contacts around the world paled compared to this. He wondered how it could be that these evil machines had made this alliance, for alliance it was. The 'Cons had helped to capture two Autobots. **They** together had helped the Decepticons capture two Autobots. **He** himself had helped the Decepticons capture two Autobots. It narrowed down to him, here, sitting and digesting the news.

The Decepticons had agreed to his fee for his help. They would help the 'Cons with this odd request, the capture of a specific Autobot or two and in return, he and Intel-Martin would get one of them to reverse engineer. He wanted the one called Springer. He surely would be of more value. But they had agreed to give him the female, the femme, Arcee. He was irritated. That bot was only about nineteen or so feet tall and slim. What could she possibly give them that could displace what they could mine from the other?

He swallowed his irritation. This was only the beginning. They were hooked together, Intel-Martin, High Flyer, Daniels, their mole and the Decepticons. Something told him that they were playing with dynamite, that the machines couldn't ever be trusted to keep their word or not turn on them. But it was too late now. He had committed treason. It was go forward or go to prison. As he sat musing on his decisions, William Nast made a pact with himself that he would never ever go to jail.

=0=Far away

They came for Arcee and Springer couldn't help her. Starscream hit her with a null ray since she had disabled two 'Cons who had tried to extract her from the cell physically. Springer cursing, throwing himself at the bars could only watch as they carried her away. Starscream standing nearby watched him with an intense expression. When she was gone he came closer, the two of them glaring at each other. "If you ever want to see your daughter again you will have to do what I tell you. If you fail, she will be dead. I will give her to my troops and then I'll personally cut her into confetti. Do you understand?"

Springer, his flame burning like napalm in his chest nodded.

Starscream smiled.

=0=Ops Center

"Here is the intel, Optimus," Jazz said taking the datapad that Jazz handed him. It detailed the cross traffic between 'High Flyer' and William Nast.

He read it and frowned, a sense of irritation burning in his tanks. "I want this to be priority one, Jazz," Optimus replied glancing at the maps on two of the monitors above security. The huge screens detailed the Earth, the eastern and western hemispheres gracing each one separately and in incredible detail. "Where do you suppose they will ship?"

"I would think from Europe," Jazz said. "What we have to do is find out where they are goin' to come into Earth's atmosphere. They're avoidin' Mars because they know we fly a lot around her. I would say they will come in from behind Venus and hit the North Pole. Intel-Martin uses a shippin' firm out of Cyprus often. We can watch that outfit and try to see if they message a confirmation to Nast once they get ready to send."

Prime nodded. "I want Arcee taken to Autobot City and I want her to stay there out of sight and under radio silence. I also want to know what has happened to Springer. Any word on the shuttles?"

"Not yet. The Oort Field is pretty big and chaotic. The signal dead ends in line with our approach field for incomin' Autobots from outside the solar well. I can assume they use it too because the density of debris is lighter through there."

"Keep them at it," Prime said nodding. "Everyone must be on their A game. Arcee depends upon us intercepting her before Nast gets his hooks into her."

Jazz nodded. Turning, he walked to the sensor station and sat watching and working his network of computer bots and spiders. Looking around the command deck, he noted the efficiency and integrity of his Autobots, his fellow Cybertronians. They made him proud. They weren't like Nast and his hired goons. They were beyond Nast's scope. The idea that they would cooperate or share technology and information with him made his tanks turn over. Never, he thought. Never.

"Prime?"

He glanced at Jazz.

"We have a message comin' in from beyond the solar well. It was zipped through in ultra high speed transmission format and can't be traced. I have it taped."

He rose and walked toward the main screen pausing to glance at Jazz. "Is it clean?"

"Yes," Jazz replied.

"Play it," Prime said as Ironhide and Prowl came to stand beside him.

A moment passed as Jazz diverted it to broadcast. It wavered and then opened. It was Springer sitting in front of a cut stone wall, a transmission device trained upon him, his manner tense but calm and his vision focused on something beyond the camera. Then his gaze took in the device and he looked at them directly. "Optimus, this is Springer. They have Arcee. They have our youngling."

=0=Far away

"Now that wasn't hard was it?" Starscream asked as the bars went up again.

Springer looked at him and then sat down relaxing against the wall as if he had no cares. He didn't answer. He just stared at Starscream, a look of neutrality on his handsome face.

Starscream moved closer, staring at him with an unreadable expression. "Optimus has stood in my way forever. I have control of our faction now with the end of Megatron and still he's there, a roadblock to my ambitions and desires. I **hate** him. I wish I could articulate how much."

Springer didn't reply. He just stared with the same maddeningly blank expression as every sensor he had evaluated the figure before him. He knew from experience that Megatron was a mad mech. He was as crazy as it got. But he was gone, to where no one knew. But now the faction was led by someone just as sociopathic. However, Starscream wasn't crazy. He was just evil. Given the two individuals, he wasn't sure which was worse.

Then he knew.

"I want to hurt Optimus Prime. I want to dig a crater into his spark that can never be filled. I want him to **remember** me and know that I can reach out and harm what he loves, what he finds precious. I want him to **suffer**." Starscream paused crouching down to allow his optics to meet Springer's. The tall Seeker smiled with a malevolence that pierced Springer's spark. "I want to send you home with a token of my esteem just for him. A memento of our time together, you and I."

Springer looked at Starscream unwaveringly. He didn't allow the growing dread inside to show on the outside. He had a faint indication that he knew where this was going and it took all his immense personal control not to throw himself at the bars and reach for the Seeker's throat.

"Before we let you go and we will," Starscream said softly, a malicious gleam in his narrowed optics. "You and I are going to merge."

An icy frisson shuttered through Springer's circuits, a glacial freeze that reached from his peds to his processor and every circuit and file in between. He didn't flinch or budge. He merely kept his gaze locked with the Seeker. "You think you can do that and live?" he asked quietly.

"Do you think that I can't? I'm sure your daughter was sure she could stay with you but she isn't here is she? Do you think you can best my null rays?"

It was as quiet and murky as any situation Springer had ever faced. He stared at Starscream, his mental processes digging through data dumps he had never accessed trying to find out what he could do to best the Decepticon.

"I want Prime to know I was here. I want him to know I haunt his dreams. I want him to know that I took from you what you give to him freely, that the product of this action is mine and he has to look at it every day. He will see me every day it lives."

"He will kill you," Springer said quietly. " **I** will kill you."

"No," Starscream said quietly. "But you will remember me," he said rising. He looked down at Springer, at his big mech form and his handsome rugged good looks. "The best part is, Springer, you will not know when it's coming. But it is. It's my present to Prime. Paybacks as the humans say. And as they also say, they are a bitch." He smiled slightly, malevolently and turned walking away once more.

Springer sat for a length of time he couldn't determine, absorbing and battling the cold icy hurricane of fear that battered him. Then he calmed himself, off-lining his optics as he turned inward sorting through the data that his subroutine search had pulled together. He found what he was looking for. In the distant past, this tactic had been used against the Cybertronian Army by their enemies. It had been so anathema that government scientists had developed a self protection program and insert device to protect against sparking through force and required all of their military personnel to have, maintain and use it.

He reviewed files, finding the software, then turned his wrist over popping the panel that he used to interface with computers and other machines. Down inside, unnoticed but installed by the military was a small black circuit, a chip that was there to protect him. He leaned into the light and looked.

It wasn't there.

Leaning back, he stared at his wrist. Starscream had had it removed. He considered his predicament and began to power down non-essential programs and hardware. He would need every bit of energy to stay awake as long as he could. If Starscream did come for him he would make a fight of it before he lost.

With a sinking feeling, he settled back to wait.

=0=

Chapter 59: Chapter 59

#59: "Slag that."

=0=Ops Center

"Optimus, this is Springer. They have Arcee. They have our youngling."

Prime felt a frigid coldness grip him as he watched Springer, a mech he had known for eons of time personally, professionally, intimately. The command deck was silent as a tomb and Prowl slipped his servo through Prime's arm squeezing it. Ironhide, a look of fury on his face watched as helplessly as Jazz, Red Alert and everyone else.

"Optimus, the Decepticons have made demands. They will be releasing them shortly. They want you to fulfill them and they will release Arcee. She's not with me right now, Optimus." He looked down moving his servo to his chest like he was in pain. Then he dropped his servo again, staring at the screen. "They tell me that if you don't do what they want they will kill her. **Our daughter**." Springer raised his servo again, touching his mouth like he was in deep distress. He held it over his chest, then put it down, his distress acute. For a moment he looked like he would cry. "They want what they want, Optimus. I … I ..." He paused again raising his servo and as he did Prime got it. He shifted staring more intently as Springer wiped his optics with it, his servo dropping again. As he did Prime turned to Jazz. "Get Kup in here **now**."

Jazz nodded and turned, running out of the room. The video continued.

"They want you to know that they expect you to cooperate if you ever want to see me again. They told me that they will kill me if you don't and they know … our bond ..." he paused holding his hand to his mouth once more. Then he began again. "Only One, **please** … if I die, then you do too. I don't **want** that, Optimus." He paused and rubbed his optics with both hands. " **Please** , don't cause yourself harm, Only One. Do what they ask. I love you." Then the transmission ended.

Prime stared for a moment deciphering a couple of things before he heard Kup and Jazz return, hurrying across the floor. He turned pulling Kup to his side. "Springer sent a message. I want you to decipher it for me. I think I have about half of it."

"What?" Prowl asked.

"Wrecker code," Prime said looking at Prowl. "Watch his servos."

He nodded to Red Alert and it began to play again. "Optimus, the Decepticons have made demands. They will be releasing them shortly. They want you to fulfill them and they will release Arcee."

"Pause it," Prime ordered. "Watch his servo." Springer moved his servo to his chest like he was in pain, his digits spread apart evenly.

Kup nodded. "He just said that they took Arcee away."

Prime nodded. "Continue."

"They tell me that if you don't do what they want they will kill her. **Our daughter**." Springer raised his servo again, touching his mouth like he was in deep distress. He held it over his chest sideways, digits closed and then put it down again.

Kup nodded again. "He just said that the Decepticons have him in a place that is heavily constructed. That it's a fortress or like one."

It continued. "They want what they want, Optimus. I … I ..." Springer raised his servo wiping his optics, four digits closed and one apart, then dropped it again.

Prime turned and looked at Kup. "He says he can't tell where he is. But he's with someone important. Starscream has him some place near enough to come here and far enough away to feel safe. One can assume it's their primary fortress and its partially mech made from the view on the screen. They have either built it themselves or they have taken over someone's outpost for their own." Kup nodded. He looked at Red. "Continue."

"They want you to know that they expect you to cooperate if you ever want to see me again. They told me that they will kill me if you don't and they know … our bond ..." Springer paused holding his servo to his mouth again, digits closed and pointing upward.

Kup thought a moment. "They want to muzzle you, make you ineffective. They want to blackmail you with Springer to make sure you don't do your job or he pays for it."

It continued. "Only One, **please** … if I die, then you do too. I don't **want** that, Optimus." Springer rubbed both optics with both servos, one with digits closed and one opened. Then the transmission ended.

Kup considered the ending and turned to Prime. "You get it too?"

"Yes," Prime said, his expression grim. "Starscream is going to kill him no matter what we do. He said for us to do what we have to do and not worry about him."

Kup nodded. "One riot," he began softly, watching the anger and frustration war across Prime's face.

"One Wrecker," Prime finished shaking his head. " **Slag** that," he said quietly. Then he turned and barked orders.

=0=In a crate on a ship in the Atlantic Ocean

she came to consciousness in the dark, strapped down and aware that there was no sound. She extended her sensor net finding the thrum of a great engine and the life signals of 15 humans. A gentle rocking sensation alerted her after a lot of analysis that she was in the hold of a ship in the middle of a great ocean on its way to some place she couldn't decipher.

Analysis further revealed that she was crated up in a wooden box. Her comm system was disabled, her weapons, transponder and other location devices were missing and she was helpless. She vaguely remembered being hit with a null ray, falling into a vast darkness even as the sound of Springer's curses and shouts faded away.

Now she was alone in a sensory deprived environment and without a clue as to where she was going. It was not the worst situation she had ever faced in a long life as a soldier but it was among the top ten at this moment. She lay back and powered down all of her systems that didn't need to run. When she got to where she was going she would need the energy. With Starscream in charge, Primus only knew what she would face when she got there.

It was quiet in the hold and she listened intently for the moment when it wouldn't be.

=0=Ops Center

Ratchet walked into Ops Center pausing by Ironhide, slipping his servo into the big mech's arm. He had heard thenews about Springer. It had circulated through the complex in nanokliks going beyond Earth to Autobot City. Everyone was on edge. Two of theirs were captive, one of them on her way to a lab for disassembling in the United States.

It seemed that was the way life was, up one moment and down in the Pit the next. The joy everyone had felt at the sparking was being swallowed whole by the fear that Arcee and Springer might be lost. He had walked to Ops Center to find out what he could do and to be with Ironhide who he knew would be deeply upset. Arcee and Springer were close friends, youngling soldiers from the old days. Now they were lost on a mission and they had to be found.

Ironhide turned to Ratchet and looked at him, surging over their bond his love. Ratchet surged back, leaning his helm on Ironhide's shoulder. They were waiting for intel from the shuttles who were moving out from the Oort Field and into a route that led to small planetoid-sized asteroids that could be big enough for fortresses or shelters.

"How is Prime?" Ratchet whispered.

Ironhide glanced back squeezing Ratchet's servo which he held in his own. "He's feeling personal about this. As usual."

Ratchet nodded. He did too. They all did.

"How do you feel?" Ironhide asked massaging Ratchet's servo with his thumb digit.

"I am fine, Ironhide. You?"

"I will be fine when the younglings are safe," he replied.

Ratchet nodded.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They received the call that they were to stay and man the installation. The gun turrets were in transition. That is, they were essentially built but the guns were not installed. Instead, they had moved two of the Aerialbots to the settlement and had them base there when they were in, ready to assist in the defense if something came out of space at them. One of Teletraan's mobile satellites was in station around Mars, also a part of the early warning system.

Sideswipe having gathered his gear to leave found that he was staying until further notice. The word about Arcee and Springer having reached them along with the orders. He was unhappy but kept it to himself, the reasoning sound as the Autobots were placed in danger collectively when a single member was held hostage.

He rolled down the street taking in the amount of construction that had been accomplished since the first steps of surveying. There were three streets so far, two of which crossed. There was space designated in the planning for housing of civilians and businesses at some future date. There was an abundance of materials on this planet that would allow manufacturing. There was even the hope of trade with Earth eventually, although Earth had no idea of their efforts thus far. He turned and rolled into the garrison which had built the surface level floors and had begun to map out the interior of the Autobot Armed Forces Headquarters.

One day, they would have a city and he would live here, he, Sunny and Bluestreak. Hopefully, it would be the three of them he considered. Hopefully. He rolled into the garrison and down to the underground levels where the crews and their guards lived.

=0=A faraway place

He sat in his cell, every creak and sound throwing a wrench into his spark. Starscream had not come back. He would Springer imagined because he said so. As he thought that, he heard a door open and footsteps walking down stairs. After a nanoklik of paralysis, Springer on-lined the systems that he needed for combat, dialed down his emotional subroutines and switched to night vision. The darkness seemed almost alive and it swirled, an effect of his vision and his fear.

The footsteps echoed in the dank dungeon and he waited ready for everything, ready for nothing.

=0=On a ship in the ocean

It cruised into port, landing in Corpus Christi. When the ship came into dock and was secured, the Port Authority police and other law enforcement officials were waiting. After boarding the cargo vessel, going over the manifest and other pertinent paperwork, comparing it to the cargo they could see the easiest, the ship's captain, a Cypriot found his vessel impounded. The usual arguments broke out and the crew was removed, carted off to a detention facility at the port.

The Coast Guard working with N.E.S.T. and the F.B.I. began a systematic search of the ship going through the cargo box by box. By the time they found the crate with Arcee, the impound orders had been signed and the crew placed under arrest for carrying contraband. Illegal weapons and munitions were found on board as well as a long heavy wooden crate that was off loaded when the ship had been cleared and placed in a truck for transport to the airport.

By the time the truck reached the airport Optimus Prime had been assured by Will Lennox who was leading the team that was dispatched that Arcee was being loaded onto Cosmos and would begin the trip homeward.

Prime sitting in Ops Center at Diego Garcia felt a relief that was only partially uplifting. Half of their job was finished. The other half was still undone.

=0=Far away

The footsteps stopped just short of the pool of light that ended in shadows beyond the cells. They were heavy footsteps, ominous and slow, taking their time to arrive. He sat as calmly as he could manage, his optics dialed to the greatest precision he could effect.

"Springer."

"Starscream."

The Seeker stepped into the light, the shadows making his menace even greater than usual. Springer watched him as he moved toward the front of the cell, pausing, his weapon online and powered up. Springer looked at it, a null gun and a smirk formed on his lips. "What do you need a weapon for, Starscream? Are you afraid you'll fail?"

It stung the Seeker and he sneered. "It won't matter how the deed is done as long as it is."

"You're a coward, Starscream. Even dead, Megatron casts a bigger shadow."

Megatron's name needled Starscream causing him to raise his weapon, pointing it at Springer. "You won't sidetrack me with your insults, Springer. In the end I will win and you will lose."

"This isn't about me, Starscream. It's about everything else. It's because Optimus is a better mech. It's because Optimus has the Matrix, because he is the Prime and has the love and respect of our people. That is what this is about. It isn't about me or anything else. It's because you don't measure up on any scale with Prime."

"I know your game, Springer. I had to endure it with Megatron for vorns. But he's gone, disappeared and I am leader of the Decepticons. Now it's time to pay Prime back for all the vorns of misery he has caused me. Now is the time to take what is his," he whispered, his rage so finely contained that he fairly glowed with it. He came closer and knelt down on one knee structure. "Now is the time that I take that which is Prime's." He smiled slightly raising the weapon. "You."

Then he fired and Springer fell into oblivion.

=0=

Chapter 60: Chapter 60

#60: Rescue

I have become very fond of Springer. He's a good utility player and cleans up at bat well. He also is one of the few triple changers in the Autobots. He has a car and a helicopter mode. And he is green and yellow, a fact I will change back in the beginning when I couldn't tell colors apart. My glasses suck. Genuinely. -The Management.

=0=Far away

He came to sentience flat on his back, the bars of the cell gone. He felt the muzziness of a null ray and lay quietly, aware that only time and his diagnostics programs would clear his vision and his processor. The moments before being struck slammed back into his awareness and the cold fingers of fear gripped him.

Finally, he sat up and rolled his head, shaking some of the tension that he felt in his neck. Rising, getting his bearings, he walked forward, caution infusing his every movement. No one was there, no one was close and the door to the brig or jail or whatever this place was, was standing open slightly. Moving forward, he peered out, looking down a long stone corridor that led to stairs that went upward and beyond. No one was behind him, he sensed no one ahead, so he went as silently as a cat, creeping forward to freedom.

=0=In the Oort Cloud

They had begun to scan larger asteroids looking for constructions that might signal Springer's presence. They flew grid patterns casting their sensor nets wide. The Aerialbots were due to turn back but they continued onward just a little farther. Sky Dive was certain they were on the right path...

=0=Springer

He climbed the stairs, every sound and creak evaluated and dismissed, every gesture of his body ready for combat, every movement prepared to react. By the time he reached the large room above, he could see that no one was left but their debris was scattered all over the place. Here and there were burn and scorch marks all on floors and walls. He crept to a window and beyond it there was no ship, no guard, nothing. Turning, he saw a device on the floor near to the door.

He paused staring at it, then came forward, bending down. It was a communication device typical of Decepticons. He scanned it finding nothing dangerous to give alarm. Then he picked it up, programming to an Autobot frequency. There was only static. He paused and then straightened, moving to the door to peer outside. No one was within the range of his sensors so he stepped outside and considered if his alt helicopter format would take him very far in vacuum.

He looked at the comm device and decided to wait, going over the situation as he saw it. Then he turned and went back inside looking through the debris to find anything that he could use to make a signal.

=0=Sky Dive and the Aerialbots

They passed a cluster of big asteroids, several that had battered each other and as they did they entered a more vast region of large and small bodies. Beyond them, a faint signal was emitting and they spoke among themselves, making their plans for approach and retreat should it turn out to be the enemy.

Sky Dive, fastest flier in the group went on ahead, sensors and weapons both activated. As he approached a large asteroid he could see the effects of habitation on its impacted surface. The signal was coming from there and so he pinged it, sending a pulse that indicated that he was an Autobot. He got it back and commed the others, going in for a closer look as he did.

On the surface below standing outside the underground structure that had been his prison, Springer stood waving his arm.

=0=Ops Center

"Prowl here."

"Prowl, we found him."

Prowl felt the weight of a hundred similar but unsuccessful moments lift off his spark. "Sky Dive, what's his status?"

"We found him abandoned on an asteroid. Silverbolt took him on board. His appearance is acceptable. But beyond that, we don't know. He is communicating and appears to be unimpaired."

"Affirmative," Prowl said comming Medbay. "Your ETA?"

"We shall be in orbit around Earth in four joors."

"Affirmative. Prowl out." He turned opening the channel to Ratchet. "Ratchet, the Aerialbots found Springer. They're bringing him home in four joors."

"Good. How is he? Is he in need of treatment? Show we go out to meet them?" Ratchet asked.

"Sky Dive says he's in good condition but until he gets here I don't know the extent of that. I would prepare for him in four joors unless something comes up and we have to meet them."

"All right, Prowl. We'll be ready. Ratchet out."

"Prowl to Prime."

"Prime here."

"We have him, sir," Prowl said smiling slightly.

There was a pause. "Thank you, Prowl. When is he going to be here?"

"Four joors. He's in good shape, the Aerialbots say."

Pause. "Good. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Prowl said. "Prowl out."

=0=Springer

He sat on the floor of Silverbolt's hold leaning against the bulkhead, relieved to be found. It would be a short and swift ride back to Earth, then the real battle would begin. He pushed his thoughts away and off-lined his optics as he attempted to relax until then.

=0=Orbit around Earth

They entered into orbit and commed the Ops Center, coming down to Diego Garcia one at a time. Silverbolt landed first taxiing as close to the hangar complex as he could. He lowered his ramp and Springer arose rapping his thanks on the ship's hull as he walked downward toward the light beyond. As he did, he saw Prime waiting, an anxious affect in his body, a tense expression on his face.

"Hey," Springer said smiling.

"Springer," Prime said clasping his wrist. He smiled, his optics taking in his friend carefully. "They found you abandoned."

"They did. I am assuming you got my message in the message?" he asked, turning to walk with Prime toward HQ.

"We did. We got Arcee," Prime said, nodding.

"Good," Springer replied, his relief evident. "I assume she wasn't going to be released."

"No. She was going to Intel-Martin to be reverse engineered," Prime said, a trace of anger in his voice.

"It will be nice to put that outfit away," Springer said.

"We will. Right now, Ratchet is waiting in Medbay," Prime said.

Springer slowed, his expression devoid of emotion. "I think I'll take a pass."

Prime stopped and turned, pausing uncertainly. "It's standard. If you have been in Decepticon custody-"

"You have to be scanned for viruses and … I know. I'm not agreeing to go, Optimus," Springer said, tensing slightly.

Prime paused, a thread of dread suffusing his spark. "I would like you to go. I … I would be derelict in my duty to you, Springer, if I agreed to your request."

"I know. I relieve you of that responsibility."

He stared at Springer a long time, their optics level as they gazed at each other. "Springer, if there is something you need to tell me, something that will not be public, I am here to listen."

"I know and no, there isn't anything. I just want you to accept that I won't be going to Medbay," Springer said.

They stared at each other for a moment and Prime shifted. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Springer lied. "I just don't think I need to go to see Ratchet."

"I could order you to go."

"You could."

Prime felt his insides turn over at the possibilities that would compel a mech as strong as Springer to defy standard procedure. "I could go with you. No one will know the outcome of the tests. Just you and me and Ratchet and they will be sealed."

"I can't go," Springer said doubling down. "I won't go, Optimus, unless you're ready to shoot me."

Prime looked at him, his unease palpable. Then he nodded. "Just for today, you don't need to go. But tomorrow, I will order it if I have to."

"You can," Springer said. "I don't have to obey." He looked at Optimus, a thousand words hanging between them, then he stepped around him walking toward the HQ alone. Prime watched him go with miserable optics.

=0=Outside the HQ that evening

Springer sat on the metal bench outside the hangar nursing a cube of high grade energon. He had been given it by Kup who wanted to know how his protege and friend had gotten out of jail. He had fudged the story and left claiming fatigue, coming outside to watch the sun set on the horizon of a different world than the one he had fought for all his adult life.

It was quiet and peaceful and he didn't notice that Ratchet had come out taking a seat next to him. He startled, then looked at Ratchet, nodding. "Ratchet. Nice approach. I didn't hear you."

"You're tired. I'm old and treacherous. Bad combination."

Springer nodded and smiled. "True."

"Glad you're back, youngling."

"Glad I'm back. I like the sunsets here."

"So do I," Ratchet said. He looked at the ground a moment, then Springer. "You didn't come see me. I waited a long time too."

"Nothing to say, nothing to see, Ratchet," Springer said.

"That is for me to say, Springer," Ratchet replied. "You younglings … you are so precious to us. I don't know if you understand that. We, Ironhide and me and a few others, we remember you when you were younglings, full of life and the desire to fight. You, every one of you are precious. What happens to you, how you are, what you feel, that matters. I would hate to not be able to take care of any of you when you get hurt."

"I'm not hurt, Ratchet," he said squeezing Ratchet's servo as he took Springer's hand.

"Some hurts don't show on the surface. I know," Ratchet said. "I would find it hard to recharge knowing you might need me and I didn't get to take care of you."

"I hear you and Hide sparked. I'm happy for you two. Who would have known?" Springer said smiling at Ratchet as the medic leaned against his shoulder massaging Springer's hand in his own.

"It's a miracle," Ratchet agreed. "I hope to have the separation at Autobot City."

"First sparkling born in our first colony," Springer mused. "That is a good thing."

"So is taking care of you, youngling. Come with me. It's me, Ratchet. I will take care of you and you will be cared for with love."

Springer felt himself fill with emotion and all the memories of Ratchet and Ironhide, two wild wonderful companions of eons of vorns came to him. He swallowed and stared at his energon. Then he tossed it in a container beside the bench. He squeezed Ratchet's hand and stood, tugging Ratchet to his peds.

Ratchet squeezed his servo and together they walked inside.

=0=Medbay

He sat on the med berth tense and silent. Everyone was gone. It was only Ratchet and Springer. Ratchet was talking about Ironhide, telling Springer a funny story when he reached and gently opened the medical panel on Springer's neck. Taking a cord, he gently plugged it inside rubbing Springer's neck with his digits.

Springer relaxed into Ratchet's fingers, resignation suffusing him as he did. Ratchet slid his arm around Springer's helm, holding him as Springer leaned into him. An arm slipped around Ratchet's waist and Springer off-lined his optics waiting sadly for the findings.

Ratchet's voice was soothing and as the data poured through the screens behind him, Ratchet continued to tell about Ironhide. The data flow stopped and the conclusions were formed, glyphs one after the other forming in neat text lines. Ratchet read them and looked down at the forlorn youngster leaning against him. "You're clean, Springer. There is nothing in your system that you didn't have when you left."

He leaned up and looked backward reading the words for himself. Then he swallowed hard and slipped both arms around Ratchet, hugging him and Ratchet hugged back. They stayed that way for a long time. Out in the hall slumped against the wall, Optimus Prime waited out his relief as well.

=0=

TBC 2010 (11)


	8. Chapters 71-80

=0=The Diego Diaries

#71: Slam Dance

=0=Corpus Christi, Texas

They sat arrayed around the parking lot, some recharging, some watching as sentinel duty rotated among them. They were ready for something to happen. Fortunately it did.

=0=Ops Center, Diego Garcia

They lounged around, the night activity reported from sensors and satellites from around the world slowly coming. The pause was welcomed on the Command Deck at Diego Garcia Autobot HQ. The Alpha crew had just stepped out, on call should the situation in Texas change and the Beta crew was manning stations. In the N.E.S.T. HQ nearby, Niall Graham was beating his compatriots in a game of poker, his uncanny skill tied directly into how much the others slacked on their own hands by arguing, eating, chatting and otherwise not paying attention.

"Why do you win so much? And don't tell me you have superior skills or something," Robert "Bobby" Epps asked tossing his hand in.

Graham smiled, a wholly handsome sight and shook his head. "I win because you lot fight among each other about how you're going to win."

It was silent a minute.

"No, really," Epps said. "Why do you win so much?"

Graham smiled, a wholly handsome sight.

=0=Corpus Christi, Texas

The sun had set and the temperature was decent falling from a high of nearly 77 degrees to a moderate low 60's. It was nearly December on the human's calendar and winter though mild in the south usually was still a lot cooler than Diego Garcia.

:At least it isn't Russia: Mirage opined as the question of who had the best weather conditions for fighting arose in the bored processors of the mechs. :That was not pleasant:

Jazz chuckled. :It wasn't supposed to be, Mirage:

As they bantered several pick up trucks passed by, one of them a flat bed filled with men dressed in black. The one sitting in the truck on the street side of the warehouse they were casing had night glasses and was looking in all directions for any sign of human activity. They drove off and turned the corner. What they didn't know was that they were on the sensor screens of five concept cars and they were duly noted.

=0=Prime

He walked from N.E.S.T. HQ after a late conference call from Washington, D.C. The two soldiers who had been transferred out of Diego Garcia after the confrontation with the twins, Johnson and Hedges were making trouble. They had the ear of their senator, an ultra conservative who had never been happy with aliens of any kind let alone the Autobots residing on Earth.

Even though the Autobots had finalized contracts with green corporations in the United States to produce batteries and solar collectors that cost nearly nothing and lasted decades, the congressman ranted about costs and deficits, exclaiming that they should leave Earth. Even when the financial burden was being shifted to self-sufficiency, Senator Beau Weaver was unhappy.

General Morshower was being ordered before a Senatorial committee and had called Prime to discuss strategy. There should be a representative of the Autobots at the meeting Morshower said. They should come and represent what the Autobots stand for, what they have survived and present to the committee and the world who would be watching the reasons why this alliance was so critically important. He said he would be there to defend them and to argue for the continuation of the most important alliance he felt that America and the world had ever made. But he felt it would give power and weight to the moment if someone from the Autobots was there too.

He considered the request, found a great deal of merit in it and knew he wouldn't be the one who would go. He was never to be filmed if they could manage it. The strategic value of his anonymity was greater than arguing with politicians in a public forum. Prime had always deferred that to one person who had never failed him. He always gave that job to Ratchet, who was always the diplomat for Autobot affairs no matter where they were. He walked into Autobot HQ instantly feeling better as always. He continued to Ops Center peering in. Prowl wasn't there so he continued to the only other place he would be if he, Prime himself was still working. He walked to Prowl's office and opened the door spying his bond mate working as usual. He stood in the doorway and smiled.

Prowl smiled back.

=0=At the beach

A number of youngling soldiers had gone to the beach and collected firewood. The fire sent sparks upward into the dark sky and they were relaxing waiting for the sun to rise and signal another day. The buzz of electronic conversation was a strange sound in a world of phonetic speech. Anyone who was watching would find it irritating to listen to and impossible to understand. However, crouched in the brush laying on a lip of land some distance away someone was listening. They were also taking pictures with a powerful camera that was equipped with multiple long range lenses and night vision. They had done this before and they did it again. The photos and clips were smuggled out of Diego Garcia and sent into the underground of conservative militias and commentators who used it to whip up fears where none existed on the myriad of outlets that they had at their disposal.

Lawrence the Mercenary, the one who had provoked Ironhide lay on the sand beside his compatriot watching the aliens sitting together, talking together, enjoying themselves on a low activity night. It was unfortunate that they needed someone to watch the perimeter to ensure that their privacy wasn't violated but Prime had considered the matter resolved for now after the incident with Ironhide, a reasonable assumption on his part.

He was wrong.

They took their pictures and were gone.

=0=Corpus Christi, Texas

They came back cruising the area, watching with their technology for anything or anyone that would make a smash and grab operation problematic. They were stringers for Intel-Martin, autonomous mercs that did for hire work. That way if the situation went wrong Intel-Martin was free and clear of being implicated. Plausible deniability. They pulled over in a shadowed area and after a moment began to work their way to the fences. As they did, five concept cars watched comming to each other internally their opinions of the merc's skills and effort.

=0=Prowl's office

He sat back, his peds on Prowl's desk as he sipped energon with his bond mate, energon that Prowl had gotten earlier. They talked about the meeting, about the need for an Autobot to be there for the show and a number of other details. It was pleasant and relaxing, what Prime had always longed for and never hoped to have.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet

Ratchet was working on reports in Medbay, Ironhide sitting nearby peds up reading a datapad on separating sparklings. As he did, as the information sifted into his processor, he thanked Primus yet again that he hadn't cracked under the pressure of Ratchet's campaign and given in. This was going to hurt.

=0=Corpus Christi, Texas

They had rerouted the security system allowing for a snip in the fence to let them inside. With a merc waiting in the shadows near the gate the other three hurried through the empty parking lot heading for the warehouse where a carefully chosen bribe had told them the 'object' they were sent for would be found.

The Autobots watched chuckling and critiquing, then Bumblebee, the smallest slipped back into the darkness and transformed into his alt robotic configuration. Jazz snickering at a joke that Mirage told him watched as Bumblebee crept over the fence, down the street under the cover of bushes and a low building on his way to disable the pick up truck of the thieves.

=0=Prowl's office

"I don't think Ironhide will be happy if Ratchet does the honors."

"Next to me he is the one with the most diplomatic skills. He was always our representative in negotiations and he never let us down."

"I know," Prowl said frowning slightly. "If you decide to send him tell him and Ironhide while I'm present."

"Do you expect energon to fly?" Optimus asked, grinning.

"Where Ratchet is concerned anything can happen," Prowl said smiling.

Optimus smiled too. "Truer words..."

=0=Ops Center

The Alpha team had been alerted that the thieves were at the gate of the facility in Texas. Optimus and Prowl arose and walked together to the command deck assuming control at this end.

"Jazz, what's the status of your situation?" Prime asked.

:There are four perps who have shorted the security system and are now lurkin' around tryin' to find a way into the warehouse.:

Jazz's internal communication played over the Ops Center audio system and Prime's responses were directed to Jazz's internal comm system. No one could hear if they weren't directly plugged in.

"What's your plan?" Prime asked knowing Jazz usually had about three which he would tear up and rearrange as the situation demanded on the ground.

:Bumblebee is disabling their truck. We are going to let them get into the warehouse, then not let them out. At that point I think a well placed anonymous phone call to the local police is in order:

Prime grinned. "You have operational control. Do what you think is best. And when the police come?"

:They're gonna find a lotta really fine rides sittin' around doin' nothin' but lookin' good:

Prime chuckled. "Very well. Keep us informed."

:Will do. Jazz out:

They sat and waited, the commentary of the mission filtering through Ops Center.

=0=Bumblebee

He edged around the building watching the guard at the gate. It was too close to the truck from this angle to do much so he crept away skirting buildings and using an alley to come around the other direction. He crept on his servos and knee assemblies moving low to the ground, utilizing the bushes and shadows to his advantage. The truck was right in front of him, no one was in the industrial park and the guard was looking over his shoulder at the warehouse as if he could see his compatriots from where he crouched.

Bumblebee considered his weapons and tool kit then decided to take out a small hand laser that could melt metal. He aimed it at the truck, sighting it under the carriage and pierced a tire. It hissed almost soundlessly and went flat slowly. Grinning, he hit the other three and by the time he was slipping through the alley again all four tires were flat. He moved back to his position which was chosen so that if they ran he could cut them off. He transformed back to alt vehicle mode and sat signaling Jazz with a ping that he had succeeded. Jazz pinged him back and turned to the three men trying to find an easy way into the warehouse.

=0=At the beach

It had gotten quieter, the youngling soldiers settling into groups or pairs, conversations turning to personal things. Bluestreak leaned against Sunstreaker, his arms around the gunner, Sideswipe's helm in his lap. They had no idea that the picture of them relaxing together would end up in a congressional hearing in a short while. No idea at all.

=0=At the warehouse

They entered having disabled the building's alarm system and were looking for the crate that had been marked with a Texas A & M decal by their inside source. They found it, sized it up and went to find a fork lift to move it. As they did, they didn't bother to look up. In the windows at the top of the warehouse looking in from outside, four Autobot soldiers were watching. Mirage, Hound and Smokescreen were looking in from the front of the building and Jazz who was shorter looked from a lower set of windows on the other side.

If they had looked up they would have seen four alien faces looking at them with various expressions as they internally debated which operation against Decepticons in the past was the equivalent to this nefarious but essentially underskilled event. As they debated, Jazz sent an anonymous phone call through a number of localities to the local authorities that a burglary was in progress at the Federal Impound Yard near to the Port of Corpus Christi.

They stood and debated as they watched the three men load the fork lift. They watched and critiqued as they came to the door and found it fused shut thanks to one of the many slightly illegal tools Smokescreen carried in subspace for just such occasions.

They tried to jimmy the door open, shaking it, cursing amongst themselves about why it wouldn't open. For a moment they yelled intensely at each other, one of them finally dispatched to find another door. Smokescreen had beat them to it fusing all the doors shut when they had entered the building. Coming back, they debated shooting the door, driving out with the cargo on the flat bed pick up and be gone, sound of gunfire be damned.

As they argued the sound of sirens in the distance could be heard and the men inside froze in place listening. The four aliens in the windows looked out and saw the lights of several police cars coming, then looked back inside watching the mercs raging at each other as they tried to figure out what to do. That's when they decided to ram the door.

Mirage, Hound and Smokescreen joined Jazz on the other side of the building looking through the windows on that side. The criminals had the crate on a fork lift and someone was driving it after backing it up allowing room to run. They drove it as fast as they could and rammed the door which bent and buckled but didn't open. Pulling back they tried again but it didn't open. The crate did and a pile of metal parts fell out. By that time the police had arrived so Jazz and his team fell back transforming, finding vantage points with which to watch as they parked and assumed their disguise.

=0=Ops Center

Prime and Prowl sat together listening with amusement at the keystone cop affair transpiring in Corpus Christi. The commentary from the Autobot crew was priceless and they were much relieved when the criminals finally surrendered.

"Jazz, when can you leave?" Prime asked.

:We're going to pull back and go over the rear fence. There's a road there that will take us past Bumblebee and we should be at the airport in about an joor or two. At that point we should be home soon after:

"Good work," Prime said chuckling. "Would that they were all this easy."

:You and me both. Jazz out: he said with a chuckle.

Prime rose and held out his servo pulling Prowl to his peds. Glancing at Red Alert, he smiled. "Let us know if any more hilarity ensues, Red."

"You'll be the first to know, Prime," the intense Autobot said, his eyes never leaving the monitors in front of him.

=0=

 

**Chapter 72: Chapter 72**

 

#72: "No. Nonono. Did I say no?"

=0=Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting the next day

"And that is why we have to send someone to represent us. I agree with General Morshower that this would be a good idea, a chance for us to show people who and what we are without it going through other people's filters." Prime finished, looking around the table for comment.

He got it.

Ironhide listened to Prime as he explained the conference call the night before realizing that the senior diplomat in their midst was Ratchet. Ratchet had deduced that a bit earlier and was already formulating arguments in a subroutine of his processor. Ironhide didn't have to process anything. He had his argument already formulated.

"No."

They all looked at Ironhide who was sitting forward leaning on his elbows looking rather like a big evil kewpie doll. He looked at Prime, at Prowl, at the rest of them and finally Ratchet. "No."

=0=At the firing range

They worked together in pairs taking their turns on the range as they honed their skills. Sitting on the patio of their brandnew barracks, the mercs watched without making a spectacle. They made their comments to each other but not loud enough to be noticed by the seven Autobots that were firing.

Of course, they didn't know that if an ant burped in Pittsburg they could hear it in Diego Garcia. Hound watching as Bluestreak slaughtered targets with a supernatural accuracy listened to the mercs. They were talking about the Autobot's personal side again speculating in a way that disgusted him. He wondered if they ever talked about anything else. "Those slaggers are talking about our personal lives again. I wonder if they have one the way they fixate on us," he said walking to the firing line for a turn.

"Who would 'face them?" Trailbreaker asked moving to allow Hound access to targets. "Have you ever heard how they 'face? It's gross."

"It's all they ever talk about," Sideswipe said holding Blue's rifle while the gunner retrieved his tool kit. "I guess they aren't getting any the way they go on."

"You aren't either," Bluestreak said grinning at Sideswipe as he took back his rifle.

"Five more decaorns," Sideswipe said grinning. "Five more decaorns and you will know the magnificence that is known as Sideswipe."

Groans and catcalls met that statement and they turned back to the range to shoot. Behind them cameras in hand, the mercs took contraband pictures of the Autobots, pictures that were forbidden to be taken or removed once they were taken from the island.

=0=Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting

"No."

"But..."

"No."

"Ironhide..."

"No."

=0=Half a joor later

They walked past the barracks moving as a group. The mercs watched them and the Autobots ignored them but for Sideswipe who rolled slowly past sheathing and unsheathing his swords, an expression of extreme menace on his face. When they had passed Lawrence looked at Todd. "I hate that fucker in particular. He looks insane."

"He's one of those Lamborghini twins. I think he and that white and black one have a thing going on," Todd said sipping his drink.

"Makes you wonder how they do it," Lawrence said. "I could make a zillion dollars if I could catch them fucking or whatever they do that is the same thing."

"You would be playing with your life," Todd said.

"I'm going to try," Lawrence said leaning back relaxing in the sun. "I'm gonna get the pictures, sell them and not have to do a damned days work for the rest of my life."

"Did you post those pictures on First-Strike?" Todd asked lighting a cigarette.

"I did. They didn't stay up long. They almost disappeared right away. But the ones I sent were also going to Beau Weaver's office. I think they might have gone through. I hope so at least," he said.

=0=After the Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting

He followed Ratchet into Medbay, smoke coming out of his audials. Walking behind Ratchet, he followed him into his office and shut the door. "You can't go to Washington, D.C. and speak to this fraggin' committee."

"Optimus can't go. I think you would be more accomodating to your son since you beat the slag out of him the other day," Ratchet said pulling a datapad and breezing past Ironhide walking down the corridor to the lab.

"Oh funny, Ratchet. Ha-ha," Ironhide said. He paused and looked at Ratchet head down and neck bowed. He looked like an enraged freight train. "You can't be among these people. You have a sparkling and you're almost halfway to separation. What if someone hurts you or the sparkling?"

"I have you coming along and he did say that Jazz and Sideswipe are coming too."

"I don't like it," Ironhide said obsinately.

Ratchet looked at him smiling slightly. "Did you know you turn me on when you get like this?"

Ironhide wavered only slightly. "Well, if you ever want a piece of my pie ever again, Ratchet you will tell Prime that you can't go because its too dangerous for the sparkling."

Ratchet stared at Ironhide deciding reverse psychology might be fun. "Then you admit it."

"What?" he said moving to stand in Ratchet's line of sight.

"That you can't protect me and the sparkling. That you haven't got the steps, the power, the mechliness to do the job."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet, at the cunning devious center of his existence and smiled. "Nice try. But I know about reverse psychology."

"You've been in my datapads again," Ratchet said.

"Damned right," Ironhide said smirking. "Self protection."

Ratchet smiled.

=0=Ops Center

Red Alert intercepted the pictures sent to First-Strike-Warriors before they were barely warm on the server. The other recipients were intercepted too but the ones sent to the office of Senator Beau Weaver were there long enough to be downloaded along with other data at the same time. Red sent a kill bot to the file and it was destroyed on the server and all the networked computers but the iphone of Weaver's Chief of Staff was outside Red's reach.

=0=The tarmac outside

They rolled out of Sky Dive moving toward the hangar. Transforming along the way, Jazz, Mirage, Hound, Bumblebee and Smokescreen walked toward the hangar and home beyond. Sky Dive transformed and waited for his brother and boon companion to join him. When Silverbolt did, they walked together toward their space, an unused piece of flat land with palm trees and small bushes that fronted along the beach just over the base fence near the firing range. Walking across the tarmac moving slowly and with great dignity Silverbolt and Sky Dive strolled. They were catching up as they walked, ignoring diversions as they talked, diversions like the mercs.

Walking past the merc's barracks, ignoring them, they stepped over the fence and continued onward moving to a flat piece of land that was close to the water giving a sense of privacy the base didn't have. The Aerialbots when on Diego had claimed it for their own. The mercs watched the behemoths go past shaking their heads at the surreal quality of the sight. Lawrence made sure he had his pictures and he would send them that night. And Red Alert attuned to his prime sending times would be there to delete them before they reached the outside world.

=0=In love's bosom

"I don't like this idea."

"I have to do my duty."

"Ratchet."

"Ironhide."

It was silent a moment.

"Kiss me, you big oaf."

"You're not going, Ratchet and bringing up The Sexy won't change my mind."

"Really?"

"Indupitably."

Ratchet snorted and smiled staring at him with his servos on his hips. "You are such a big femme. Of course I'm going and you are too."

"I don't want you sitting in front of a bunch of hostile slaggers shooting their yaps off slaggin' ya."

"That's why you're coming, Ironhide. You get to face plant them if they get out of line."

"Prime would have my ball bearings."

Ratchet grinned handing him a rifle, a box of ammunition and a sack of grenades. "You put this crap in your locker in the armory. We can't have our sweet little sparkling playing with grenades. What will the neighbors think?"

Ironhide snorted and followed Ratchet as he moved to another corner to sort through Ironhide's accumulated slag. "You can't change the subject. That's against the rules."

"What will you do?" Ratchet said handing Ironhide two more rifles. "Spank me?"

Ironhide smiled slightly. "Might be fun."

"Probably is but I don't think it's in keeping with my status as an Ambassador and all around yellow aft fragger."

"You have a point," Ironhide said as two more rifles, a sack of cartridges and his spare cleaning kit joined the pile in his arms. "Ratchet, I can't see. No more."

"That is only two corners, Ironhide. That doesn't count that corner, under and behind the couch, the shelf up there with the knives. Knives, Ironhide. What if they fell off?"

"I'll get them," Ironhide said turning to totter to the door. "Point me toward the armory, you slagger. I can't see a fraggin' thing."

Ratchet smirked and showed him out pointing him toward the armory three stories below. He staggered in that direction as Ratchet smiled. "You big old fragger, you." Then he went back inside and did more cleaning as only a good 'brooder' would.

=0=General Morshower on the Senatorial Committee meeting

Ratchet and Prime stood together listening and discussing the meeting which would take place in Washington, D.C. in three days. The agenda wasn't set but they were warned to be prepared for anything. Senator Weaver of Texas was a hothead who would be trouble. There were three of his allies on the committee and the rest were either Autobot supporters or Senators that didn't openly dislike them.

The meeting would be held in a space that would accommodate Ratchet's size because it was agreed that Ratchet would transform from vehicle to robotic mode and do it in public. There was so much disinformation out there, much of it from the talking heads of radio and television that almost no one could really understand what sort of aliens Autobots and Decepticons were.

Ironhide, Jazz and Sideswipe would be coming and they would be shined, buffed and low key. Protection and nothing more would be their brief. Prime would be involved in the meeting through direct internal comm linkage with Ratchet. All in all, everything was covered. All they needed to do was get on Silverbolt, do the committee meeting, answer questions and come home.

The conference call ended and Ratchet, Ironhide and Prime walked back to the hangar. On the way they formalized a list of off limits topics. Personal information about anyone in particular was off limits. No one would be there to give permission and Prime would not permit it anyway. Mystery was a good thing in moderation.

Any deep discussions about their religion or religious views, sexual/reproductive information and sparklings was taboo and permission was granted to use that as the reason they were not going to discuss it. The Allspark and his family were to be off limits. Discretion was given to Ratchet to decide what to do but by the time they reached the hangar they had a good working list.

And Ironhide had a good low grade processor burn.

=0=

 

**Chapter 73: Chapter 73**

 

#73: A Shine and a Buff Is Enough

=0=Ops Center

They received the police report from a N.E.S.T. affiliated operative working in the Texas Rangers and it was concise and to the point. The perps had been 'free rangers', hired guns who were to collect a box. They weren't talking and probably wouldn't. Reputations had to be maintained in their business.

Nast was safe.

Prime considered the situation, the exposure of the contents of the box and the probability that it would destroy the ruse they made for Starscream. He put double teams on the communications intercept programs designed to cover everyone involved. He included Galloway, having given considerable processor time to that prickly prick.

Ratchet walked in pausing beside Prowl to exchange comments then ambled over to Prime. "I analyzed the files you sent to me and I have gathered other information as well."

"Good," Prime said. "The venue is going to be open and you will be able to drive inside it along with your escort. Will Lennox is going to be with you and help with logistical support in case they don't understand what we need. General Morshower will be there and he will make the introductions. Then you will have to transform in front of everyone there including all the people watching on tv."

Ratchet nodded. "I will give testimony in my alt format?"

"Yes," Prime said smirking. "I imagine you will glow."

"Am I not now?" Ratchet asked smirking back. "All this effort to remain incognito and a couple of rednecked slaggers make this happen."

Prime nodded. "But then, maybe it's time for the world to see us and not just have speculation from our enemies."

Ratchet nodded. "And the others... do they transform or do they just sit and look beautiful? Or in the case of Ironhide, deeply menacing?"

Prime grinned. "They won't transform unless you think it would be wise. I have left that up to you."

"Thank you," Ratchet said grinning.

"How **is** Ironhide?" Prime asked settling back in his seat.

"He's being a dumb aft. However, I did shame him into taking his heaping piles of slag to stow in his locker in the armory. Did you know that there were fragmentation grenades under the berth? **Fragmentation** grenades."

Prime chuckled. "Gives new meaning to overload."

Ratchet chuckled. "Mech does love a good munition."

They both laughed. Prime regarded Ratchet fondly. "How is the sparkling?"

"Running a race inside me," Ratchet said. "He likes to sprint around my spark. Makes it flutter."

"Is that normal?" Prime asked, his grin dampening a little.

"Totally," Ratchet said grinning. "He's just experimenting with himself."

"He's Ironhide's sparkling," Prime said nodding. "Did you pick out the color scheme yet? He told me he wanted big yellow circles around its eyes."

"Big yellow dots," Ratchet said shaking his head. "'Night vision, Ratchet. It'll help him'." Ratchet grinned. "He's a sparkling. We don't have to worry about night vision for a while I think."

"I wouldn't think so," Prime said with a laugh.

Ratchet regarded him with a grin and pulled a chair to sit. "So … when can we expect you to set an example and spark Prowl? Or maybe Prowl sparks you ..."

Prime thought a moment wondering how he could explain himself without causing a ruckus. "I don't think I'm the type who could be a carrier, Ratchet," he began.

"Really? What's the **type** , Prime?" Ratchet asked, his expression amused.

Prime looked at Ratchet and considered his options. None of them were good. "I … I, uh … how do I say this?"

Ratchet settled back crossing his arms over his chassis. "Take your time. I want to hear this."

Prime considered his options, slim to nothing and cut his losses. "This is why you are going to Washington and not me," he said with a grin. "I think I'm speechless."

Ratchet stood and grinned down at him. "You can't slag a slagger you know," Ratchet said chuckling. "You and Ironhide, mechly mechs and all around chaos bringers to the nth degree. Is that it?"

"Only if you want it to be, Ratchet," Prime said grinning.

Ratchet chuckled. "You can be a diplomat, Prime. All you have to do is make the slag so sweet people say thank you."

"I'll remember that," Prime said, smiling.

Ratchet nodded and turned pausing on the way out to whisper to Prowl. Prowl looked at Prime and grinned slightly making Prime deeply nervous. He sat and watched as the world turned, all the precision he expected from his team not only met but exceeded. Life was good.

=0=Ironhide

Until it wasn't.

He stood in the wash racks getting a thorough going over. The next day they would be flying out on Silverbolt to Washington, D. C. or as he fondly called it, 'The fraggin' Pit'. He would have to be made presentable because he would be representing his kind in front of people, some of whom still believed the world was only six thousand years old.

/... slag that … my left aft cheek is at least that old .../ He chuckled.

He scrubbed all he could reach and when Ratchet stepped in to take the brush he found himself being cleaned in places he didn't know existed. Mostly because he couldn't reach them and thusly forgot they were there. "That tickles," he said glancing down as Ratchet scrubbed between his legs. "Watch the critical energy port there, Ratchet. I don't think you want The Sexy here in public. Might give lesser mechs spark arrest."

Ratchet peering up snorted. "Is that what would happen? Spark arrest at your mechly ways?"

"Frag right," Ironhide said putting his hands against the wall as Ratchet began to scrub his broad back, his shields and his aft. "Consider with all the 'facing that goes on around here that you're the first mech to spark in what? A zillion vorns?"

"And that's because you're such a virile mech?" Ratchet said amused as he scrubbed under Ironhide's arm pits. He chuckled and jerked, the rap on his helm by the scrub brush bringing him back in line.

"Of course it is, Ratchet," Ironhide said smiling, his capacity for bullshit rising as fast as the shine on his armor. "What else could it be?"

Ratchet grinned thinking about a dozen other reasons but because he was a good supportive bond mate he let Ironhide have his illusions. "That's right, Only One. If you say so."

"I do," Ironhide said grinning broadly. " **I** , Ironhide the **Chaos Bringer** , **Ironhide the Relentless** , the baddest bad aft in the **entire Autobot Army** say so."

He bumped his head on the wall as Ratchet pushed him forward to get the underside of his underside. Ironhide grinned, a chaos bringer being fragged around by a gangling yellow aft medico. It never failed to make him smile how Ratchet could bring him to his knee assemblies with merely a look.

"You missed a few places, Ironhide," Ratchet said tossing the brush in a bucket and taking the hose, shooting it here and there until all the soap scum was gone.

Ironhide turned flexing his superstructure this way and that, content to allow it to speak for his magnificence as Ratchet looked him over with a gimlet optic. Ratchet grinning at his antics shook his head. "I don't know if I want to take you into public, Ironhide. You look pretty wonderful all cleaned up."

Ironhide grinned. "Course I do."

"Now we have to wax and buff you."

"What?" Ironhide said, his smile evaporating along with his dignity. "I'm a Chaos Bringer, Ratchet. I don't need no shine and buff."

"I'm a Chaos Bringer's 'Old Lady'. You **will** have a wax and buff."

Ratchet took his hand and the two walked out, Ironhide mumbling and glowering until he got halfway down the hall. He pulled them to a stop. "What … where did you get that 'Old Lady' remark?"

"The mercs," Ratchet said tugging him forward.

Ironhide tugged back. "The mercs? **When**?"

"If you promise to be a good little sparkling and come with me to Medbay for your shine and buff, I will tell you."

"I'm not a sparkling," Ironhide mumbled as they continued on their way.

"Could have fooled me," Ratchet said grinning. "At least our little sparkling won't be an only child."

"Oh, ha-ha, Ratchet," Ironhide said as they turned into Medbay together.

=0=Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Bluestreak

Sideswipe leaned against the wall as Bluestreak and Sunstreaker worked on his detailing. He glowed like a lantern, his shine luminous. Sunstreaker was on his knee assemblies looking upward at his thigh, buffer in hand. He buffed here and there considering what parts would be most noticable once Sideswipe transformed.

"Are you going to fully sheath your swords, Sideswipe?" Bluestreak asked buffing his shoulder with a small hand held.

"If I have to transform, I will probably need them out and ready."

"I doubt that anything is going to happen, Sideswipe," Sunstreaker said. "At least there."

Sideswipe looked down at his brother spying his wolfish grin. "You break the agreement and Prowl will disassemble you and make flower pots."

"Did I say I was going to do anything?" Sunstreaker asked too politely.

"You better not," Sideswipe said glancing over to Bluestreak. "He better not and you too."

Bluestreak smiled. "Don't worry."

Sunstreaker shook his head. "I hate Praxian customs."

Bluestreak looked down at him, smiling. "Wait until there's a sparkling."

They both looked at Bluestreak who looked at both of them. "Why do you automatically assume I will be the carrier?"

"Because," they both said in unison.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet in Medbay

"And they said that as I was walking by," Ratchet concluded applying the buffer to Ironhide's arm. The tension in the big mech was palpable. "I think you showed them the error of their ways, Ironhide. You need to relax."

"You want me to relax? We're hip deep in fraggers here, Ratchet. Not just here but in Washington. You want me to relax."

"If I do I'll let you play with my interface port tonight."

Ironhide snorted and glanced at Ratchet who was grinning as he worked his way to Ironhide's wrist. "Why wait until then?"

Ratchet paused considering his remark. Then he peeked out noticing no one in the main bay. He grinned setting the buffer down. Ironhide rubbing his wrist let the panel slide open, his interface cord dangling out. Ratchet opening his own took Ironhide's, plugging it into the port in his wrist. He took his own and paused. "Did you hear what the soldiers said about us? Prowl had to tell Prime and he almost went to the Matrix from mortification."

"Yeah," Ironhide said with a chuckle. "Jazz let me read it."

They stared at each other a moment, then looked around at the main bay beyond. No one was there. Ironhide took the cord and put it into his mouth sucking on it for a second. He took it out and looked at Ratchet who was staring at him silently. "Anything?"

"Nope."

Ironhide snickered. Then he plugged Ratchet's cord into his port. They stood together, the sensations of pleasure coursing across their circuits ending almost instantly into a crescendo of feeling. Ironhide removed Ratchet's plug, then his own. They stowed them, Ratchet kissing Ironhide as he picked up the buffer again. "Now that is a 'face," Ironhide said with a smile.

"You won't get an argument from me, Ironhide," Ratchet said with a grin.

"Of course not," Ironhide said with deep satisfaction.

Ratchet only snorted.

=0=

 

**Chapter 74: Chapter 74**

 

#74: "Mr. Ratchet Goes to Washington"

=0=The day of days

Prime hurrahed them off, a gleaming red Lamborghini, a gleaming greenish brown Jeep, a hulking yet gleaming black truck and a smart looking hummer search and rescue ambulance rolling toward a gleaming Silverbolt. Since they were representing Autobot Nation, they had taken a bit of care in their appearance and as such, the sun glistened more brightly in their direction. Rolling up, they parked and the ramp door closed, the four of them transforming as Silverbolt took off. They were heading straight for a secured landing at what was now called Joint Base Andrews Naval Air Facility Washington, the old Andrews Air Base. It was about eight miles from D.C. and used to accomodating very strange personnel.

=0=On the road. Again: Ironhide

Ironhide sat in the midsection of Silverbolt's hold, his attention paid to everything including Will Lennox sitting in the corner reading a novel on his new Kindle. He himself was going over the schematics of the facility where they would be ***ON FRAGGIN' DISPLAY*.** Security was supposed to be tight and already the commentary was coming over the broadcast channels that were monitored day and night at Autobot HQ and N.E.S.T. HQ. Apparently, there were militia people coming to town, arms on display to register their opinions of the situation. There were crowds of supporters, detractors and the curious that had come early and staked out claims to the area. That didn't count the number of reporters and news services that were there to get a glimpse of **FRAGGIN' ALIENS!** and tell the world in deep breathless prose what they thought about the 'unknowable impenetrable strangeness of the universe'.

/... they don't know the half of it .../

There would be groups of people who were protesting the idea that they were as old as the Autobots said they were since they believed that the Earth was only six thousand years old. There were those there who were prepared to attack them for 'being gay' because apparently their God hated 'fags'. That group gave Ironhide pause. His own species didn't have an emphasis on gender one way or the other. There were femmes but they were an extremely tiny portion of their population. Why, he didn't know. He hadn't thought about that fact until now. It just was. They didn't need two opposite genders to reproduce. Ratchet was proof of that. The Matrix Prime carried was another and so was Vector Sigma and the Allspark among other things. If mechs didn't hook up there would be no one to frag. And if no one could frag, then there would have been a war a lot sooner than this one just from the pent up aggravation of enforced mechanical celibacy.

He grinned. He and Ratchet had that part of things covered **just fine** , thank you very much. He glanced at Ratchet who was going over data on the panel members in his processor and grinned again. Yes, they were **just** fine and dandy on that score.

There would be science geeks and personality freaks there and a few were already being carted off according to the news feed running in a security program off his main processor. It highlighted threats and oddities from a specified list he had created every time they went on a run, gleaning from the constant stream of words that swam in threatening to drown him only the pertinent details. A lot of strangely dressed individuals, their images surfacing into his thought process were there as well wearing odd alien looking costumes. A group calling themselves Luddites were there to protest against 'the rise of the machine' or some such slag.

He frowned. /... we aren't machines, slaggers … we're mechanical but we aren't machines .../

A number of people flogging their own causes were also there holding signs and milling around. Some of them didn't want people to 'tread' on them, as if he would he considered and others just wanted them out because they were apparently part of some socialist plot to take over the world. He shook his head and leaned back. When they got there this was going to be a zoo. The ones that worried him, the gun toters were the ones he began to zero in on now, pulling up and isolating their images for his clear and present danger file.

=0=Andrews Air Base etc, ibid, opsit

Silverbolt touched down and taxied to the VIP landing area where the 'must protects' always landed. There were several jets from other countries, their diplomats already taken away as Silverbolt slowed to a stop. A number of N.E.S.T. people were there and they assisted them through the gate led by Will Lennox who sat in Ironhide. Ironhide leading off with a full escort of police cars and motorcycles was followed by Ratchet, then Sideswipe and finally Hound, his sensors laid wide open. They made their way to the gate passing through into the glare of television cameras stationary and airborne. Lennox sitting in Ironhide felt his tension. "You alright, Hide?"

"No."

"It'll be okay." Lennox patted Ironhide's dash.

"No."

Lennox smiled and sat back watching as people tried to come up and look inside the truck. They made their way to the highway and were on their way. Apparently, Ironhide found out there was a traffic light perk for VIP's that allowed nothing but green lights all the way to the venue. It was surrounded by massive crowds, news people and overhead the drone of helicopters could be heard. It was unnerving but they continued, Ratchet chatting to the group, encouraging them all to ***BE ON YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR, IRONHIDE*!**

They crossed the parking lot running a gauntlet of people, an ocean of sound and a lot of crazy a blur around them. By the time they made their way around to the back of the Walter E. Washington Convention Center Ironhide's tension level was greatly elevated. The party paused, a group of military officers, N.E.S.T. people, FBI and venue officials waiting for them moving forward. Lennox, the window rolling down by itself discussed the route inside for their party as all the others looked at them with awe, a few with fright but most taking pictures with their cell phones and cameras.

With the details taken, Lennox got out and began to walk to the ramp that was waiting to take them inside. The venue had cleared, the corridors making the transit into the building as easy as possible. Ironhide, his sensors scanning the area for nearly a mile in all directions followed slowly, the others coming up behind. The fit was reasonable and by the time they reached the open area of the hearing the crowds were back and so were the cameras. The flash of lights was incredible and Ironhide dialed down his optics, warning the others. He paused before the entrance inside taking in the view. Senators were sitting at a dias that held tables and chairs for them and their stuff. In front of them sitting at a table with several aides, General Glenn Morshower, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff waited. He rose and walked toward Lennox, the two talking for a moment. Then Morshower turned nodding to Ironhide, the talking heads playing in the background of Ironhide's processor making much of a man talking to a 'truck'.

/... **I'm not a truck, you slaggers** … **I'm an Autobot** … **A FRAGGIN' CHAOS BRINGER**! .../

Morshower moved back to the table to stand, Lennox turning and gesturing Ironhide to follow him. The room was hushed, the several hundred humans inside transfixed by the spectacle of sentient vehicles arriving in their midst. A large black GMC Topkick pick up truck, stacks giving a roar as it rolled down and across to a stop behind the panel pointed toward the crowd on the far side of the room.

The next vehicle was a yellow and black Hummer Search and Rescue vehicle who drove in confidently and parked behind General Morshower. The next vehicle, a luminously beautiful red Lamborghini rolled in and stopped behind Ratchet covering the middle of the room. A gleaming late model Jeep rolled in, turned sharply to face the side of the room nearest the entrance they used before shutting down its engine. It was quiet a moment, the only real sound the clicking of cameras as everyone studied the four vehicles parked in the room. It was obvious that no one was driving them and that they were driving themselves. It was also obvious that they were the least likely looking aliens ever imagined in these parts.

The committee was silent for a moment, then Senator Hoxley, an Autobot supporter cleared her throat. "General Morshower, I don't know how to do the honors. Can you be of assistance?"

Morshower nodded and turned walking to Ratchet, moving to the door. A window came down and he leaned inside talking for a moment to no one in particular. Then he stepped back and walked to his seat, sitting and repositioning the microphone in front of him. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great, great honor to present to you Ambassador Ratchet of the Autobot Army of Cybertron, Chief Medical Officer of the Autobot Armed Forces and the personally dispatched diplomat of the Matrix bearer of Cybertron, Optimus Prime." Then he turned and leaned back in his chair to enjoy the show.

=0=Diego Garcia

They stood in front of screens, from the mercs and Daniels to the N.E.S.T soldiers, civilian employees and Autobots. From the minute that Silverbolt had set down at Andrews, the focus of Diego beyond the on duty personnel was to find a screen and plant themselves. Not only were the Autobots on the line, so was Diego Garcia, its personnel and the mission they so deeply believed in and slaved to achieve. Ops Center in both places were crowded with spectators, all of them waiting to see what would happen. For the Autobots it was a way to determine the scope and character of a species they were still learning about. Whether they could continue to protect humans here would depend on what happened today. Public opinion depended on this moment.

As Prime sat and watched, he was joined by another who had a great stake in the outcome. He was joined by Sam Witwicky, the Allspark.

=0=Walter E. Washington Convention Center Hearing

For a moment nothing happened and then it did. Ratchet, a mild mannered appearing hummer began to transform. Unwinding, unbending, reshaping and undoing, body parts slipping and sliding, moving here and there as a humanoid figure began to take shape.

For Will Lennox, it was just Ratchet. He had seen nearly all the Autobots shift back and forth for a long time and it was as amazing to him as it probably was to anyone else but he wasn't overcome. He was just immensely, intensely impressed. He had warned his wife just before landing that the hearing would show strange things and as he pulled his phone out checking the messages, there was two. One from his wife and the other his parents. He smiled and stowed it again watching Ratchet as he finally finished his tranformation.

Ratchet turned and looked at the panel who were staring at him with shock and something akin to awe. Lanky and tall, Ratchet stood twenty feet tall, five feet shorter than Ironhide and eight feet shorter than Prime. He had bright blue optics, a sweet expression on his faceplates which were expressive and exuded intelligence. He was massive, enormous and he stood waiting staring at them with as much curiosity as they stared at him. Then Morshower arose and walked to him. Ratchet leaned down, kneeling for the general.

"This open space beside me is for you, Ratchet," Morshower said quietly. "If there is more you need you can tell me now and I'll get it arranged."

Ratchet looked at the open space next to Morshower's table that had a low metal bench for him to sit on. Beyond that were arrays of vocal listening dishes that would be trained upon him to allow him to be heard. He looked at Morshower and nodded. "It appears to be adequate," he said with a smile.

Morshower nodded and moved back to his table watching as Ratchet rose again moving to the bench. He sat down carefully folding his long legs and settled rather comfortably as he considered the people before him. There were twelve... four, very pro Autobot, five with few opinions one way or the other and three that were virulently anti alien.

Morshower sat and cleared his throat. "Madame Chairwoman, Ambassador Ratchet and I are both open to questions about the Autobot garrison and our joint military operation."

Senator Andrea Hoxley of California nodded and turned her gaze on the impassive face of the Autobot before her. "Um, I would like to say welcome to our hearing, Ambassador."

Ratchet grinning slightly nodded his head. "It is my pleasure, Senator, I assure you."

In a truck nearby, every possible internal device focused outward, Ironhide of Cybertron agreed. /... slag ***yeah*** , fraggers .../

=0=

 

**Chapter 75: Chapter 75**

 

#75: Tell it loud, tell it proud.

=0=At the Walter E. Washington Convention Center

Ratchet smiled and waited aware that cameras were on him from every possible angle short of up his aft. Waiting patiently, he listened to Chairwoman Hoxley argue with the biggest obstacle on the panel, Senator Beau Weaver of Texas. He considered what he knew. The Senator never met a donation he didn't want to lick. He was a friend of money. He was an embracer of every wacky movement in conservative politics that came blowing past and he was addicted to the camera. They settled their dispute and Senator Hoxley began. "Ambassador, I was hoping you could give us more information than we currently have about your species and the conflict that is dividing your people."

Ratchet nodded. "We are from Cybertron, our home world and are autonomous robotic entities, or Autobots as we prefer. Our planet was once peaceful but a divide occurred over political differences and the growing scarcity of our energy source, energon. There are two factions, ours, the Autobots and our foes, the Decepticons."

"What is the difference between the two factions. I am asking so that the information that comes out of this committee is accurate. There is a lot of disinformation in the public right now."

Ratchet nodded. "I appreciate the opportunity to clear up any perceptions that may be inaccurate today. The Decepticons are interested in domination, annihilation of foes and control of independent worlds. They don't have an appreciation of life, of the right for species to be free, to determine their own fate and they don't have a respect for life. They kill those who oppose them without mercy.

"The Autobots on the other hand believe in the right for all sentient beings to be free, to determine their own futures. Our philosophy encompasses life. We believe that all life everywhere needs to be free and if endangered, protected."

"The Autobots … were they the armed forces of your world or did the two groups become factions out of some other source?" she asked.

"The Autobots grew out of the workers of Cybertron who wanted a better life and wanted to preserve our people against tyranny and violence. The Armed Forces supplied a great deal of the Decepticons, especially the Seekers. Seekers fly and can transform into planes and other flying machines."

"Can you fly?" she asked.

Ratchet grinned. "I have before to varying degrees of success but no, I am not designed for flight. There are Autobots among us who can fly and my colleague, Sideswipe can fly short distances due to enhancements." Ratchet turned and glanced back, then looked at the committee. "He has the Lamborghini alt vehicle form that you see behind me."

"He's an Autobot," she said smiling slightly. "I know that you are and that the … vehicles behind you are Autobots … sentient beings but its hard to fathom. When we think of alien lifeforms coming to Earth, cars and trucks don't naturally spring to mind."

There was laughter and Ratchet grinned nodding in agreement. Then he turned and over his internal comm system asked Sideswipe to transform. As they sat and watched, the Lamborghini changed, twisting and turning, emerging from a vehicle into the robot format that he usual retained, a fearsome exotic body shape. "I asked Sideswipe to change so that you can see that we are what we are."

Sideswipe standing quietly, his swords sheathed completely as Ratchet had asked him to do if called upon to change tried to look as benign as he could. Cameras clicked in a flood of light, then Ratchet turned and nodded. Sideswipe nodded back and reversed the procedure, reverting to his vehicle mode, sitting as quietly as before.

"That was … I don't know what to say," Hoxley said speaking out loud what the committee thought.

"It takes getting used to I am told by the N.E.S.T. soldiers," Ratchet said grinning. "But they also tell me it never gets old."

Hoxley grinned. "I can imagine."

=0=Ops Center, Autobot HQ

"He's going to be insufferable," Sunstreaker said shaking his helm. "He'll be in all the papers and it will be awful."

"It could just as easily have been you," Bluestreak said slipping his arm around Sunstreaker's shoulders. Sunny tugged Bluestreak settling him in his lap and they continued to watch, the camera every so often panning to Sideswipe. "Insufferable."

Bluestreak only smirked.

=0=At the hoedown in D.C.

"I would appreciate a concise explanation of why you and your colleagues are here on Earth, Ambassador. Why are you and the Decepticons here?"

:You have discretion, Ratchet. Go lightly on the Allspark but tell them:

The internal com from Prime took only a slight moment, then Ratchet nodded to Hoxley. "We have an artifact that confers a great deal of prestige and power to our people. It is the greatest artifact in our culture. During the conflict Megatron tried to take control of it and use its power and prestige against us. Our Prime, our world's political and military leader had to save it by sending it into space depriving Megatron and the Decepticons from possessing it. With the power it contained it could destroy worlds and enslave entire galaxies.

"It disappeared and the war continued. Without the Allspark as it is called we were a dying people. Megatron left Cybertron with a contingent to look for it. He was separated and landed here becoming entrapped in the ice at your pole when his telemetry was interrupted by the magnetic field in the north. He had found the Allspark. It had landed here too for reasons no one will ever know. Your people held both of them. We were chasing it too to help our people and make sure that Megatron never controlled it. That led us here."

"The Allspark was destroyed," Hoxley said. "Why is this conflict still here?"

Ratchet considered Sam Witwicky, the living Allspark and began to formulate an answer that didn't include him. "The Allspark was destroyed. But the anger and vengence that Megatron and the Decepticons feel about this defeat wasn't. The word has gotten out that they **can** be defeated. Enslaved worlds are taking heart. If they don't subdue this one, if they let this one defeat them and not exact subjegation then their empire will fall apart. That is why they are still here."

"And your part in all this?" she asked.

"We are here to protect you against them. For you to battle them alone would be to invite disaster and enslavement. Other worlds have tried and all of them have failed. We don't wish for you to fail. We wish to assist and stand with you against them so you will not fall and become enslaved."

=0=Ops Center, Autobot HQ

"Nice and concise," Jazz said leaning back in his chair.

"Enough information," Prime said nodding. "Sam can't be brought into this."

"No," Sam said sitting between them. "Sam can't."

Prime smiled and Jazz chuckled.

=0=At the thrilla in … D.C.

"You have taken part in a lot of interdictions of Decepticon activity on Earth, much of which is classified. Tell us more about the foe and their aims, particularly any individuals that may be involved in this if you know them."

Ratchet nodded glancing at Morshower who was sitting in his chair listening. He nodded in encouragement. "I won't reveal details of classified events but to say that they wish to sow division between Autobots and humans is to understate their intentions. They want to drive a wedge so great that it will cause the unthinkable. It would mean that you would go the distance alone. The leader at the moment is a Seeker called Starscream," Ratchet began.

"Your names," Hoxley said breaking in a moment. "I am sorry to interrupt but your names are unusual. Starscream, Sideswipe. Could you explain a little about your names please and then continue. I apologize for the interruption but I am fascinated with your names."

He nodded grinning. "Our names in our native language are unpronouncable. I don't believe that it is physically possible for your species to ever be able to speak our language. Therefore, we have spent a bit of effort to find near matches of what our names are in your own language and we have learned your languages from the World Wide Web. Sideswipe has a name in Cybertronian but you can't pronounce it. His name equivalent in English is Sideswipe. More or less," Ratchet said smiling. "Our names are designed to mean something, for us to attain because of them or they are a designation of beauty. What that might mean with a name like Sideswipe or Ironhide is understandably vague but I assure you names have great meaning in our culture."

She nodded. "I find them fascinating. Your flight over to the United States was on a jet names Silverbolt."

Ratchet nodded.

"That is a beautiful name. Please continue. I apologize for interrupting but where I can seek clarification and information for our people I will."

Ratchet nodded. "A noble aspiration," he said. "Starscream is a Seeker and a very cunning, very intelligent, utterly unscrupulous individual. He is leading the faction now and he is the one trying to distribute our weapons and other technology to shady humans who want to use it against you and your kind. He was Megatron's subcommander and he was Air Commander of the Seeker divisions in the Cybertronian Armed Forces. He is a bad sparkless individual."

"Sparkless?" Hoxley asked.

"Soulless," Ratchet answered simply.

"I would like to know more about your Prime," she asked.

"Our people have a leader that is a political and moral figure with enormous prestige and influence. There have been seven of them previous to our current Prime, Optimus Prime. He was chosen to be leader of our people and was so during the outbreak of the revolution begun by Megatron. It was so bad that the Senate conferred onto Optimus the mantle of Commander of the military. That was never done before him. He is our leader, our inspiration, our rallying point. He is as good an individual, as respectful of others, as smart, strong and decent as anyone I have ever known. Our people follow him because he is our beacon."

"He couldn't come today," Hoxley asked.

"No," Ratchet said. "He couldn't. But he sends his most sincere regards."

The conversation continued and others took up the questioning, one by one asking what they needed and Ratchet answered them all. He spoke with humor and knowledge telling the story of their people, the journey they had made to get to where they were and their willingness to stay and protect Earth against an unforgiving enemy. By the time they reached Beau Weaver the audience was on Ratchet's side.

Then Beau Weaver got his turn.

=0=

TBC 2010 (11)

 

**Chapter 76: Chapter 76**

 

The Diego Diaries: Beau Weavil edited for boo boos :D

=0=Walter E. Washington Convention Center Hearing

Then Beau Weaver got his turn.

"Mister Ambassador … you are a mister, correct?" Beau Weaver, Senator of the Great State of Texas asked.

Ratchet nodded. "Correct."

"Mister Ambassador, I would like to talk about things that the other committee members haven't asked. I would like to talk about your philosophy, religion, your personal habits."

"It is forbidden for me to talk about the personal habits of others, even myself and our religious beliefs as well as a number of other things that deal in the personal realm of our lives. It is a taboo area outside of our own kind."

Weaver paused looking at Ratchet, then tapped the table with a pen. "You are here to answer our questions. I would think you would want to clear up any misunderstandings and promote the proper thinking in regard to your people."

=0=Ops Center, Autobot HQ

"Oh, oh. Dumb aft alert," Jazz said.

Sam, Prowl and Prime nodded.

=0=Ops Center, N.E.S.T. HQ

"Oh, oh. Dumb ass alert," Colonel Fulton said.

The entire team on the floor nodded.

=0=Walter E. Washington Center Hearing, Washington, D.C.

Ratchet considered him. "You would be asking me to violate not only the privacy of my comrades but a cultural taboo. I will answer what I can but I won't answer that which is forbidden."

"Your Prime as you call him, he should have given you permission," Weaver countered. "It seems that you want to hide a number of things from us. That's hardly something an ally would want to do from another ally."

"We believe that our actions have spoken a greater tale than any words I can give you. We have interdicted a great number of Decepticon actions and we have taken casualties. I would think that the shared blood would tell you of our fidelity to your protection," Ratchet said quietly.

"That is all well and good but there are other things that are of interest to our people," Weaver countered.

"Such as?" Ratchet asked.

"Where you stand on God or if you even have one. What kind of relationships do you have? Forgive my directness but I would not be able to tell if you were a male or female by just looking at you," he said.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, the audience becoming uncomfortable. Ratchet knew they were on his side and it was his to lose. He waited listening to Weaver but the Senator was waiting for him. "I understand your interest and your confusion. You are not the first alien lifeforms to have encountered us. We had been searching far and wide for the Allspark and crossed many paths. We have learned to appreciate life in all its often strange and unthinkable forms. We understand that organic lifeforms are different, strange and for some of us they are difficult to relate with and accept. But we do because life is what it is, where it is. As for us, I can answer most of your questions but some of them are taboo."

"Why?" Weaver persisted.

"Because they are private, some of them. Others are taboo for discussion outside of our species because they are sacred. It makes me deeply uncomfortable to discuss the Allspark even though I know it is gone forever. That subject, that particular thing is taboo. The privacy of our people and all our individual people in the area of relationships is important. They aren't here to give their consent and I am not authorized to discuss them so I can't. It's that simple."

"Then let's talk about your own relationship. You are here to give consent."

"My relationship?" Ratchet asked surprised.

"Yes," Weaver said picking up a paper and making a pretense of reading from it. "It appears you have a relationship with someone called Ironhide."

A burst of angry emotion swept to Ratchet from Ironhide over his bond and he sent back cool soothing emotions in return. Lennox sitting nearby rose and walked to Ironhide opening the door to climb inside.

"Hide, relax," Lennox said sensing the anger in the cab. "Ratchet is killing here. Just hang on."

" **Frag that** , Lennox," he said, his voice even lower with his outrage. "They don't have **any business** talking about us and **how did they find this out**? The mercs? Daniels?"

"I don't know but I'm going to find out," Lennox said, his expression grim.

=0=Ops Center, Autobot HQ

"Fraggin' Daniels," Jazz said.

=0=Ops Center, N.E.S.T. HQ

"Daniels, the bastard," Fulton said.

=0=Walter E. Washington Convention Center Hearing

Ratchet stared at Weaver impassively but was in conversation with Prime at the same time. After a moment, Weaver looked up, waiting. "Is that information correct?"

"I cannot comment on personal matters," Ratchet said quietly and levelly.

"Even your own? You can grant permission." Weaver looked at Ratchet with an expression of coldness as he relentlessly pressed his point.

"I am not prepared to concede that I have a relationship to discuss. I am bound by the laws of taboo to protect the personal from invasion of privacy."

"Then let me fill in what I know," Weaver said. He picked up a paper and began to read from it. "You are Ratchet, Chief Medical Officer of the Autobot garrison. You are a male. You are in a relationship with another male by the name of Ironhide." He turned and nodded to an aide who pulled a large posterboard from among several and put it up on an easel behind his boss. On the posterboard was an image of Ratchet and Ironhide, albeit unclear and of low quality, indicative of a cell phone snapshot. "Is that you and the other Autobot I mentioned?"

It was an innocuous photo, Ironhide and Ratchet walking together outside the hangar. "I will concede that is me and Ironhide. But we are just walking together to N.E.S.T. Headquarters."

"There are rumors at Diego Garcia that you and Ironhide are in a relationship," Weaver persisted. "Is that true?"

Ratchet smiled in spite of the absurdity of the moment. Of all the many questions that this man could ask, questions that might clarify big questions about the universe or about aliens in general, Weaver wanted to know if he and Ironhide were 'facing. "I cannot answer that question without breaking personal and cultural taboos."

"Did an incident happen recently in which this Ironhide went off the reservation and destroyed with his bare hands a barracks, putting life and limb in danger?"

Ratchet looked at Morshower who decided to intervene. "There are mercenaries at Diego Garcia, much against my desire for them to be there who have been provoking the Autobots when drunk, which seems to be their preferred condition. They provoked an Autobot without reason who was ill and it necessitated an intervention. The barracks were harmed in the incident but the Autobots rebuilt it themselves. The mercenaries were found to be at fault."

"You find it okay for dangerous aliens to tear things up? What could a small human do to someone like him?" Weaver said pointing at Ratchet.

"Plenty," Morshower said. "The same mercenaries drove a heavily armored fully loaded SUV into one of them when they were crossing the compound and in full right of way. The SUV hit them at 150 miles per hour and caused injury."

"The men inside died, two of them," Weaver countered.

"The men inside, all three of them found to be three times the legal limit of intoxication were deliberately aiming for the Autobot they hit. They were playing chicken but unfortunately for them they didn't tell the Autobot. The impact severely injured the Autobot and killed two of the mercs. They were at fault, not the Autobot who was offending no one at the time. And I would like to add, extensive investigations confirm what I just said. Intel-Martin hires scum and they act like it. It's only the patience of the Autobots that prevents the problems they create from escalating."

It was silent a moment and Weaver consulting papers looked up and considered Morshower. "You and I will have to disagree, General."

"No, Senator, you will have to overlook several independent investigations if you continue this line. That isn't disagreement. That is prejudice."

Weaver looked as if he were going to argue but he didn't, instead turning and nodding to his aide. They rose pulling another posterboard from a stack, placed it on the easel. Ratchet looked at it, a flash of red passing before his optics as he saw what it represented. It was a bunch of youngling soldiers relaxing on the beach. Three of them were the intention of the photo and they were Sunstreaker, Bluestreak and Sideswipe. They were lounging together, Bluestreak leaning against Sunstreaker with Sideswipe's helm on Blue's lap. Ratchet waited, looking at Weaver like the scum he was.

"This picture was taken at Diego Garcia. I would like to know if you would comment upon it."

A short com from Prime and he did. "That was a number of our youngling soldiers, our youngsters relaxing at the beach after a mission that involved shooting and injuries. They are just sitting enjoying a quiet moment."

"And the relationships? What about them?"

"They are friends of long standing relaxing together. What are you implying, Senator?" Ratchet asked, his optics narrowing.

"I would like to know where the females are. I would like to know if the relationships among you, especially these three individuals are same sex."

"Why?" Ratchet asked.

"Because it is against our military regulations to allow openly gay individuals in ranks."

A groan permeated the hall. It permeated the White House, N.E.S.T. and Autobot Headquarters as well as allied areas. It permeated fifty million households in just America alone and it permeated Ironhide's helm. Ratchet who was having saturation troubles of his own tamped down his emotional personality programming. "I am not at liberty to discuss the personal relationships or lives of our soldiers. I would also like to point out that taking pictures of our soldiers and passing them out of Diego Garcia is a crime. You have received images taken in a crime, Senator. I would also point out that our soldiers are not in the ranks of your army. Therefore, the laws that you employ regarding fraternization to not apply to us. Why don't you get to the point."

"The point?" he asked. "My point is to get to the truth."

As Beau Weaver of the Great State of Texas made his point someone else did too. Three huge explosions outside blew out the windows behind them as the concussion flashed across the common area outside.

=0=TBC

2010 (11)

 

**Chapter 77: Chapter 77**

 

The Diego Diaries: Duck and Cover edited for boo boos 77

=0=Walter E. Washington Convention Center, Washington, D.C.

As Beau Weaver of the Great State of Texas made his point, someone else did too. Three huge explosions outside blew out the windows behind them as the concussion flashed across the common area outside.

For a moment, it was silent, the actual tinkling sound of falling glass clearly heard. Then sound slammed back in as the shouts and screams outside were matched by those inside. Ratchet rose up turning to watch as Sideswipe, Hound and Ironhide who dumped Lennox rather hurriedly transformed into their alt robotic configurations, weapons coming online as they did. Morshower rising to glance around watched as the Autobots began to organize inside the center.

Ratchet shouted out that people needed to sit back down and settle. They stared at him and the behemoths that were trying to move to the big double doors, the shattered windows and paused, moving back as they quieted down to let them pass. Ironhide 25 feet of seething black menace moved toward the windows and peered out, his cannons online and his sensors spread wide. Hound nearly as tall, armed to the teeth and moving to the other side of the blown out windows paused and looked back as Sideswipe rolled up, his swords sheathing and unsheathing as he hesitated, peering outside as well.

Ratchet turned to the committee ascertaining their safety, then turned to the people who stood transfixed. He called out to the crowd gathered inside, some of them hysterical to calm themselves and sit down away from the windows. He told them that the Autobots would protect them and to let them pass if they came that way leaving the center aisle of the venue open. For a moment they just stood staring, then they moved back allowing Ratchet to come closer and offer quieter words of comfort against their fears. By then, the three Autobots at the window were outside and moving to find out who was responsible for the outrage.

=0=Ops Center, Autobot HQ

A continuous stream of information was being sent back to Prime who stood beside the communications desk, his expression one of frustration and concern. The blasts outside now being broadcast to Diego had blown out a number of windows in nearby buildings and the concussion had mown down people who were standing in its path. The blast holes were easy to detect and the carnage though significant was saved from catastrophic by the fact that the devices appeared to be planted in areas that were fenced off and unused during the hearings with the tall building itself taking a great deal of the blast, hence the windows in shards inside.

Crowds were farther away and even though they had been impacted on the nearest fringes it didn't appear to have reached them hard enough to cause deaths or dismemberments. Ironhide moved across the parking lot toward the bombed sites, Hound looking up for Seekers with his weapon pointed and Sideswipe rolling along behind them with his sensors sweeping in all directions, his swords sheathing and unsheathing as he watched the peripheral of the site.

The cratered holes were blackened and the concrete bore the impact, twisted and pitted, gouged and burned. They were planted close together to make the biggest blast possible and as Ironhide scanned the area and the craters, the others gave cover. He found the detonators, sending the images of his infrared vision to Diego Garcia as he looked around. Kneeling, he found bits and pieces of the bomb, small and charred while forming a grid in his processor, placing the pieces on it in situ as a forensics investigator would later on. He combed the area looking for details of Decepticon activity, all the while in contact with Prime in Diego.

His chatter and the chatter of Hound, Sideswipe and Ratchet filtered through the comm system of Ops Center, everyone listening and looking at the scene as Ironhide investigated it. Then the sound of emergency vehicles could be heard and the line of vision changed, Ironhide, Sideswipe and Hound's visuals broadcast over three big monitors at the Center. Cops were running forward, people were pulling injured up and away and it was chaos outside. The Autobots watched as armed police and FBI ran toward them guns drawn. Then Morshower appeared, his aides with him and they intercepted the police before they reached the Autobots. Lennox appeared talking quickly to law enforcement then turned running toward the Autobots. Ironhide's visual looked down at him capturing him as he began to speak. He told them that the people inside were safe and were being evacuated. They heard Ironhide ask about Ratchet and he said Ratchet was coming outside to help with the wounded.

Then Ironhide's visual changed moving toward the building watching as Ratchet stepped out of the broken windows heading toward the people limping away or sitting on the ground dazed. He knelt and picked up a man holding him carefully, then moved forward collecting another. Ambulances had arrived and Ratchet knelt laying the people down gently as stunned frightened rescue people snapped to from their shock of him and the moment to help.

When it was clear to Ironhide that they understood Ratchet was helping and he wasn't being harrassed, Ironhide's visual returned to the bomb craters. He asked Lennox to move here and there peering into this and that, seeking to see if the Decepticons had a hand in the atrocity. Beyond them, beyond the building and the barriers being maintained by Capital Police, District of Columbia law enforcement and FBI, the huge crowds were being directed away. The news people surged and argued but were not allowed to come any closer than they were as the police sought to maintain control and prevent contamination of the scene.

A hummer and an armored car along with a S.W.A.T. van pulled up, heavily armored humans jumping out. Ironhide watched them and so did Ops Center as they came forward, slowing as they approached the aliens, some of them with guns drawn. Lennox running toward them began a heated discussion that led to them putting their weapons away. The bomb squad experts came forward pausing with Lennox beside Ironhide who bent down to come closer to them.

"The bombs were of Earth-type composition, William," Ironhide said to the humans gathered around Lennox. "There is nothing about their design that is Decepticon but I know they had help. The bombs appear to have been placed here a few days ago. The venue was not common knowledge so it was an inside job. The placement of the bombs would require expertise and finesse to prevent detection, something that Decepticons could provide."

"So Starscream directed this," Lennox said as Morshower joined them.

"They wanted to discredit you and the Autobots," Morshower said.

Ironhide nodded. "I would not disagree," he said, his optics looking up to where Ratchet worked with relief people to bring aid to the damaged humans. "They sent a message to us," Ironhide said looking back at Morshower. "They want Weaver and the people of this country to push us out."

Morshower looked at him with a grim expression. "He can try, the fucker." Morshower looked at the destruction, turning to the police. "The scene is yours."

With that they stepped back, Army and Autobot alike as the experts of the District of Columbia Heavy Weapons and Tactics team and the Bomb Squad took over. And as they did the entire disaster, the bombing, the disarray in its wake, the emergence of the Autobots into the world outside the venue, Ambassador Ratchet giving medical assistance, Hound, Sideswipe and Ironhide giving defensive protection was broadcast to the country and to the world.

America saw it.

Diego Garcia saw it.

Europe, Asia, Africa, South and North America saw it.

Nast saw it in Houston and smiled.

Starscream saw it much farther away and he smiled too.

=0=Inside an hour later

The committee sat on chairs waiting for the all clear to leave. Weaver sat with a pale complexion and an unreadable expression. Hoxley sitting in front of him turned coffee cup in hand. "So, do you still want the Autobots to leave?"

Weaver looked at her frowning slightly. "If they had not been here this would not have happened."

"I disagree. If they had not been here it would have happened anyway and it would have been much worse. There would be no one on Earth that could stand up to them and the threat that they pose."

A sound of heavy treads interrupted them as Ratchet came back through the windows moving to where the committee and their aides sat. Kneeling down to eye level he reached them. "Are you all right?" he asked scanning each of them as he asked.

"We are fine," Hoxley replied smiling. "Are you and your comrades?"

"We are," Ratchet said nodding. "We have assisted the bomb squad and emergency teams to aid the injured. There do not appear to be any injuries that threaten life."

The committee reflected relief and settled wearily in their chairs. "Mr. Ambassador, were the Decepticons involved?" a Senator from Oregon asked.

Ratchet nodded. "To our trained optics it would appear so. The devices were planted some time ago and concealed with great care. The blasts themselves appear to be designed to send a message without inflicting too much carnage."

"If you lot weren't here this wouldn't have happened," Weaver said sitting up straighter.

"If you wish to comfort yourself by thinking so, Mr. Weaver, I will not disabuse you," Ratchet said. "On the other hand, you are not alone to face this threat and it is a very real and present threat."

"I'm glad," a Senator from Maine said, an neutral senator before today.

Ratchet nodded. "I am too," he said quietly. "We would like to know that you are well and ready to leave. We will be going back to Diego Garcia but will be available should you require our presence at any hearings or proceedings that you deem necessary."

"Thank you, Mr. Ambassador," Hoxley said. "I will keep in touch through my Washington office."

Ratchet nodded and rose staring down at them. He smiled and nodded again, stepping back. Then he transformed and where a tall gangling robotic entity once stood smiling with a kindly face and deeply blue optics, a huge hummer search and rescue vehicle now appeared. It blinked its lights and then backed slightly, rolling forward and out the double doors of the venue disappearing into the rapidly falling nighttime of Washington, D. C.

They stared after it wordlessly.

=0=On the ground in Diego Garcia

Will Lennox commed off his cell phone after talking to his parents, the pair of them brimming with questions and keen interest in his assignment. He could not speak to them before today. Now it was a relief to hear them and talk about what he actually did. His wife had called earlier on the ride back and he had comforted her and his daughter, reminding them that he was coming home for Christmas. Epps and Graham met him with a hummer and they drove back to the barracks to talk and play poker until the wee hours of the morning.

Hound met by Trailbreaker walked together along with Ratchet, Ironhide and Sideswipe. Waiting inside the door, greeting Sideswipe with enthusiasm was Bluestreak, Sunstreaker standing back, an enraged expression on his faceplates. He pulled Sideswipe and Bluestreak to one side looking around as he did. "Those fraggers got a picture of us. Someone on this base is a slagging traitor."

"I know," Sideswipe said nodding, his own expression expressing his outrage.

"We have to figure it out," Sunny said turning to walk with Blue and Sideswipe toward Ops Center. "We have to find out fragging soon."

They entered Ops Center fot the debrief with Prime and the senior Autobot Command Team.

Outside, moving toward his preferred tie down, Silverbolt walked, graceful, majestic and enormous. He crossed the compound quietly, climbed the fence and joined the other Aerialbots once more. Night fell on Diego Garcia and everyone settled in once more, cognizant that they had dodged a bullet even as it became very clear they had a traitor in their midst.

=0=

TBC 2010 (11)

 

**Chapter 78: Chapter 78**

 

The Diego Diaries: Home Again, Jiggity Jig edited for boo boos :D

=0=At Autobot HQ, that night

Ironhide sat waiting for Ratchet who was debriefing with Prime and Prowl, going over the hearing together. He was pondering the information that Weaver had displayed and the comments that he had made about himself, Ratchet and the younglings. It burned in his tanks and he wanted to find Weaver to shake him until he spilled the name of the source that was here, giving away secrets and half truths to the cowardly little fragger from Texas.

Ratchet arose, turning and walked toward him, Prowl and Prime leaning together discussing some more things. When Ratchet reached Ironhide he held out his servo pulling the bigger Autobot to his peds. "Let's go," Ratchet said with a grin. "My peds are killing me."

"I'll rub them," Ironhide said moving with Ratchet toward their quarters, his servo invariably resting on Ratchet's back. They paused along the way, talking to this and that Autobot. By the time they reached their quarters they were ready to be alone. Entering, they moved about getting ready for recharge and when they lay down together they had lost a lot of the tension that battles always bestowed upon them. It was quiet as Ironhide took Ratchet's servo, squeezing it. "You were good."

"Thanks," Ratchet said grinning. "Sorry I couldn't tell them what a sexual volcano you are but I had to observe the proprieties."

Ironhide smiled. "Too bad for them."

"Yep," Ratchet said, smiling.

"We have a mole besides our mole, unless that one is feeding images out of here too," Ironhide said.

"Prime feels its the mercs. They have been doing this for a while. He and Red have caught them sending to Weaver and Nast," Ratchet said.

"Oh," Ironhide said. "I can imagine the younglings are going to be wanting to know who it is. They were laid out in public like sacrifices."

"They were, sacrificed that is. The Weavers and Nasts of this world don't care who they harm as long as they get what they want."

"Then we make sure they don't get it," Ironhide said, his voice filled with steely resolve.

Ratchet turned and snuggled against him nodding. "I agree."

"How's the sparkling?" Ironhide asked.

"Spritely," Ratchet said. "The blast startled him."

"Is that bad?" Ironhide asked alarm in his voice.

"No," Ratchet said. "He's just noticing the world outside of my spark chamber."

Ironhide raised up and Ratchet rolled over onto his back. Ratchet smiled looking up at Ironhide in the dark with night vision. "Show me," he said softly.

Ratchet released the catch and the door slid, the metal folding back to reveal the spark and sparkling inside. Ironhide smiling with awe reached in and touched both, the sensation of being one mind with Ratchet filling him. The sparkling's energy tingled against his fingers, a sense of delight suffusing Ironhide from the small life. He looked at it with wonder, then touched the catch, the doors closing and sealing seamlessly. He looked at Ratchet and leaned down kissing him softly. "Thank you."

Ratchet savoring the soft kiss smiled. "You are welcome."

Then Ironhide shifted and pulled Ratchet into his arms holding him as he considered the sparkling that would be his in only four decaorns. He could hardly wait he thought as he slowly drifted into recharge.

=0=Senior Autobot Daily Staff Meeting, the next morning

They gathered and debriefed, going over the evidence that pointed to Decepticon involvement. Red Alert attended to lay out the paper trail he had gathered from three days before the bomb went off until just before the meeting. Nast was a part of the incident, emails between him and High Flyer proof.

"He wants something that High Flyer can arrange," Red Alert said. "He wants Arcee and he wants Springer. He thinks that High Flyer has contacts with the Decepticons. He has no idea who he's dealing with, the fragger."

"Amazing," Prowl remarked as the door opened and Jazz came in, his expression grim.

"Check this out," Jazz said, turning on the monitor in the corner. A press conference was going on and Weaver was decrying the presence of Autobots on the Earth, using the bombing as evidence of the folly of allowing it.

"This is the usual thing he does," Prime said, glancing at Jazz. "I expected it."

"Hold on," Jazz said, looking at Prime. "Wait until you see who is with him."

The camera lingered on Weaver for a moment, then he paused looking to the right of himself. Theodore Galloway was standing there, a grim expression on his face. "I would like to introduce National Security Administration member Theodore Galloway. He has an announcement that he would like to make. Theodore," Weaver said moving aside as they shook hands. Galloway moved to the microphone. Cameras went off like crazy and then died down. Galloway spoke. "This morning, I tendered my resignation to the President saying I could no longer after the incident at the Walter E. Washington Convention Center support the policy of accomodation with the Autobots. I don't believe its sound, safe or effective. As of today, I am no longer a member of the administration. I do intend to announce my candidacy for the Senate, seeking a seat from the state of Virginia. I feel so strongly about this that I am preparing to fight the continued alliance of our country and the Autobots in the Senate. I believe it's time to revisit the treaties and other accomodations we have made with them."

At this point, the media began to ask questions and his answers were a rehash of his usual 'objections' so Jazz muted the screen. They turned and looked at Prime who was leaning on his elbow, his helm resting on his servo. He looked at the screen for a bit and then turned looking at his team. "You know, I **really** don't like that man," he said as the room erupted in laughter.

Jazz smiled. "What do you want us to do, Optimus?" he asked.

"Trace his money. It will be interesting to find out who will finance his campaign. Keep the tracers on his communications and start building a map of his life, his associates, the works. Just like Nast and Daniels. It all leads back to Starscream," Prime said grim faced and angry.

"And the best part, Prime is that neither of them know that," Ratchet said with a grin.

"When Starscream seeks what he wants, they'll know," Jazz said smiling grimly.

"And we better be waiting," Prime replied quietly.

=0=Medbay, later

Bluestreak walked in looking this way and that, spying Ratchet in his office. Walking to the door, he paused knocking. Ratchet startled looked up and smiled. "Blue. Whatta ya want?"

"I wanted to talk to you about things, personal things, Ratchet," Blue said hovering in the doorway.

Ratchet divining his reasons smiled and nodded. "Come in and close the door."

Bluestreak did.

=0=The twins

They rolled to the firing range taking their time passing the merc's barracks. They weren't out and so they hung around scanning the barracks and the area around it as they wasted time waiting for them to show themselves. They didn't.

"Fraggers can't be counted on to show their faces," Sunstreaker said as he rolled back past the barrackers. "Fraggers!" he shouted, his optics never leaving the building as they passed. Sideswipe glaring as well continued toward the hangar with his brother seething over the invasion of their privacy by Weaver and the treachery of the mercs. He didn't know which he hated worse.

The mercs standing inside watching through a window relaxed slightly as they left. The two nightmares of their existence had passed by and it was clear that they were looking for them. Todd turning to Lawrence punched him. Lawrence turning glared at Todd. "What was that for?"

"For aggravating them. They're homicidal as it is and you're aggravating them. They're going to kill someone and I don't want it to be me."

"Those fuckers are under orders to leave us alone," Lawrence said turning to look out once more. "Their boss told them to."

"Have you obeyed every order you ever got?" Todd replied moving away to reaching for a beer in the cooler.

"Doesn't matter," Lawrence said smiling. "I'll get what I want, then no one can tell me what to do ever again."

Todd looked at him remembering the big black Autobot who came for them. There wasn't anything that they did that could save them from his ire. Now they were taunting the two most dangerous Autobots in the garrison. He considered for the first time asking to be relieved and sent elsewhere.

=0=Medbay

"How do you know?"

Ratchet considered Blue's question. "I guess you think about it and if it fits you, you do it."

"But Ironhide ..."

"He would never be a carrier. I have always known that."

"Your prank war..."

"It was half for the fun of it, half to make sure that Ironhide was good with sparking and getting him to commit to a sparkling. I knew it would be me. Ironhide is a wonder of the universe, a mech's mech. I don't mind being the one."

"But Sunny and Sideswipe, they automatically assume it will be me."

Ratchet nodded. "Then you need to work that part out before you bond. That's what a pre-bond is for, Bluestreak. To work out the stuff that matters because once you do it you can't undo it."

"I know," Bluestreak said considering his options. "I think it might be a good idea for you to tell me how to prevent sparking. Until we figure this out or I get used to the idea of maybe being a carrier I don't want to spark."

"The twins … how do they feel about sparklings?" Ratchet asked rising to gather the hardware and software to prevent sparking in a carrier.

"They haven't said." Bluestreak's expression hardened. "I think it's time I found out."

Ratchet smiled and nodded. "Good," he said simply.

=0=Outside the rec room

Bluestreak stood in the sun absorbing rays and absorbing a new software program that operated the small shunt fitted into his critical energy port that disallowed excess energy to surge and form a sparking. It was innocuous but secured in place and would prevent Bluestreak from becoming a carrier unless it was removed by a medic like Ratchet. The twins rolling up brightened at the sight of Bluestreak, leaning in for a kiss and a hug. They got it but they noticed agitation. "What's up, Blue?" Sideswipe asked.

Blue looked up at them, the two both twenty-five feet of warrior, fearless and fearsome. He, at a mere twenty feet found himself dwarfed around the two of them once again having to marshall his focus as his basic good nature often led him to table what he wanted to do or say in favor of getting along. "I want to talk to both of you about something."

"Sure," Sunstreaker said glancing at Sideswipe, moving with Bluestreak toward the beach. They stepped over the fence walking to the place they always sat and when they all did Bluestreak turned to them, swallowing. "I want to know why you think I should be the carrier if we spark."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker glanced at each other, communications flying over their link. Bluestreak watched them knowing that was happening and frowned. "Well?"

"Because I can't," Sideswipe said shrugging. "Can you, Sunny?"

"No," Sunstreaker said with a frown. "I can't. I never thought I ever could and I can't. Why, Blue?"

"The other night, you just assumed I would do it. I would be the carrier."

"Well, we can't. We're frontliners, Bluestreak. We have to fight and we don't take a back seat when we have to go to battle. How can we do that when one of us is sparked?"

"What about me? I'm a warrior too," Bluestreak replied.

"We never said you weren't," Sideswipe said raising a servo. "I just think if you want a sparkling you can't count on us being the carrier."

Blue looked at them both and asked the big question: "'If **I** want a sparkling'? What about you? Do we have sparklings or not?"

It was silent a moment. "I think so," Sideswipe said glancing at his brother.

Sunny shrugged. "I never gave it any thought because I never felt we would ever have a chance to be genitors. I don't know what I think."

Bluestreak rose and walked to the shore pausing for a moment before coming back. "Well, you better figure out what you want because in about four decaorns we are getting bonded. I don't want to do that if you don't have an answer for me."

"What answer do you want, Blue?" Sunstreaker asked.

"An honest one, Sunny," Bluestreak said turning to walk away.

They sat and watched him silently.

=0=

TBC 2010 (11)

 

**Chapter 79: Chapter 79**

 

The Diego Diaries: Build it and they will come …

=0=On the way to Autobot City, Mars

Ratchet sat in the hold of Cosmos, winging toward Mars at the usual astonishing clip. Beside him, relaxing against the bulkhead was Hoist and Ironhide. They were on their way to run a complete diagnostic on the Medbay in the fortress and Ironhide insisted in coming along to 'carry slag' and the like.

Ratchet, amused, agreed and so they went to the city where their sparkling was going to be born in less than three decaorns. The previous decaorn had been hectic...

=0=Ops Center

"They want a statement about the incident in Washington, D. C., Ratchet," Prowl said, pausing in Medbay. "They will take it over a secure link and you can give your statement at the comm station in Ops Center."

Ratchet had nodded and walked to Ops Center after putting away a number of datapads that had reports and inventory and half of the physical service results of half the Autobots in the garrison. He entered and walked to the monitor and spent about an hour discussing what had happened, what he had seen, how he had reacted and helped, what the possibilities for a cause and perpetrators might be in his professional estimation and on and on. By the time he was finished, it was Ironhide's turn and sitting, putting up his peds, he listened in.

"Sir, what did you see when you stepped toward the window and walked outside the venue?"

"I saw people scattered all over. There were windows blown out on two buildings besides our own and there was chaos."

"What did you do yourself in that situation?"

"We, my junior officers and I began to scan for threats, determining that there were bombs placed that had exploded. We could not assume that there were not more. Our sensors didn't pick these up. The exploded munitions had been damped in some fashion to hide their presence and locations. That is Decepticon tactics. I doubt that humans have that capacity."

"And then? Did you go over the site and the evidence?" the Federal prosecutor asked, looking up. She didn't see Ironhide. The interviews were held without video. Only audio was reaching the lawyer.

"I did," Ironhide said. "I scanned the area, locating on a datagrid all of the pieces and parts of the bombs, the locations of blast items such as concrete and steel and the location of the blast victims that were reached by the explosion."

"You didn't disturb the evidence or the scene did you?"

"Frag no! What do you think I am? A sparkling?"

Ratchet only grinned.

=0=Later that morning

"Ratchet, can I talk to you?"

Ratchet looked up, spying Sideswipe standing in the door, uneasily glancing over his shoulder as he did. "Sure."

He rolled in and passed Ratchet, entering his office and turning back to wait. Ratchet, rising and putting down his travel pack for the trip to Autobot City walked into his office and Sideswipe closed the door.

"What's up?" Ratchet asked.

Sideswipe paused, embarrassed for a moment. "I was … I wanted to know how you keep from sparking?"

"Ah," Ratchet asked, smirking. "What brought this all about besides your bonding with Bluestreak one of these **vorns**."

Sideswipe rolled back and forth a moment, then turned and sat in a chair. Ratchet, noting his expression sat as well waiting. "We had this thing with Blue. Sparklings came up because of you I guess and the next thing I know Blue is mad."

"Why?" Ratchet asked, knowing the answer already.

"He thinks we think he is somehow **supposed** to be a carrier."

"Is he?" Ratchet asked.

Sideswipe was silent a moment. "I only know I'm not cut out for it."

"Why?"

Sideswipe frowned. "Because I'm a warrior."

"Bluestreak is a warrior."

"Bluestreak is younger … uh, he's sort of smaller and more sensitive … I'm really pissing you off aren't I," he asked, noting the lack of expression on Ratchet's face and the way he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Slightly, but continue," Ratchet said.

"I don't know how to say this right ... correctly," Sideswipe said leaning forward a little, "but I don't think I can be a carrier. I want sparklings. I always wanted a family at some point but I never felt it would ever come to that, that we could find enough peace to have things like that."

Ratchet nodded. "What about Sunstreaker?"

"He's not even going to consider it. He's just … Sunny," Sideswipe said, shaking his helm. "Blue is mad and wants an answer. I know Blue wants sparklings, maybe more than one. And with a trine, all that sort of thing is magnified."

"Have you ever considered not being a part of this, of seeking someone else to bond with?" Ratchet asked.

"No," Sideswipe said. "When we would be with other mechs or femmes, we never had this happen. Just with Blue. And now, Blue's pretty hot about this."

"And I can see that," Ratchet said. "You are making him the weak one, the femme one, the lesser one. Or so it sounds to me."

"We don't mean it," Sideswipe said. "Blue is shorter and smaller. He is a tough fighter and shoots better than us long range. But he's just sweet and … I don't know. I just know he's mad and I want to make sure that I don't cause a sparking. We haven't figured that out yet and I don't want to complicate things by being unprepared against this."

Ratchet nodded. "I can make sure you don't spark but this issue and how you view each other, you better square it out. Prowl won't take to his youngling getting disrespected and you need to work out the idea of family or no family before you bond. It's hard enough figuring out how to balance what you want with one partner but you will be three in this bonding."

Sideswipe nodded. "I just need to know I won't spark."

"Come with me," Ratchet said rising. "I can do that," he said, pausing at the door. "The rest you have to do yourself and the sooner the better."

Sideswipe nodded and together they walked to the private surgery in the back to make it so.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They landed in the airfield and Ironhide and Ratchet stepped out, laying their gear on the ground. Ironhide transformed first and they loaded everything in his truck bed. Transforming themselves, they drove together down the winding dirt road that led to the fortress. Driving under the arch, entering the main compound, Hoist and Ratchet formed back to their robotic configurations and unloaded Ironhide so he could as well. Greeting the mechs and Arcee who were garrisoned here, they walked to Medbay and began to spread out, Ironhide going to the Ops Center with Springer and Arcee settling in to chat while Ratchet and Hoist began to shake down the Medbay.

=0=Three joors later, Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

The message came in garbled and static-filled. When they received it at the Center, Ironhide commed Ops Center at Diego Garcia.

"Prowl here."

"Prowl," Ironhide said. "We have a situation," he began.

=0=Diego Garcia, Earth

They walked to the jets, loading and entering as fast as they could. They didn't bother to tell the N.E.S.T. HQ what they were doing beyond a 'training exercise'. Optimus Prime walked out with Jazz and First Aid, boarding Silverbolt and lifting away into the sky with Cosmos and Sky Dive.

Will Lennox stood in the doorway of his barracks, coffee cup in hand watching. He wondered where they were going since Prime was with them and made a note to ask. Maybe there was training potential in their exercises for the soldiers too. Turning, he walked inside out of the sun.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

The ships set down, Silverbolt and Sky Dive discharging their passengers after a flight through space made at the top speed they could manage. Reaching the planet, they transformed after off loading and waited, their sensors aimed at the skies above them.

It was midday on Mars, the sun overhead and moving toward evening. On the ground waiting, Ratchet and Hoist, Ironhide, Prime, Jazz, First Aid and Springer looked up as well. Behind them primed for their first emergency, the garrison was on edge. Then the word came.

:Autobot City Ops Center to Prime:

:Prime:

:Sir, they are on our radar. They are coming in together:

:Very well. We are ready:

Prime stepped forward, his optics focused well beyond the upper range of normal human vision, watching as tiny speaks began to appear. Some of them, many of them flashed into the thin atmosphere of the planet, burning very little as they thundered in hitting the ground at enormous speeds. They hit one after another, burying themselves as they did. When they struck teams moved quickly, hurrying to the craters to help the occupants up and out.

Beyond them, slowly ascending were three ships of Cybertronian design making their way to the beacon marked landing strip and the directions of Silverbolt as they made their way to the ground. Slowly they came and they settled down, rolling to a stop as they did. Prime, moving toward them was joined by others as they came to the ships, the doors lowering slowly.

Inside, huddled on the floor were numerous mechs and a couple of femmes, all of them worn and ill-appearing and all of them famished, weary and frightened. Prime moved forward, stepping up the ramps and walking inside, kneeling down beside a mech who was lying under a ragged blanket shivering. He turned and called out, "Ratchet!"

The medics hurried inside, Ratchet to Prime and Hoist and First Aid to the other vessel. Ratchet looked at the mech and then the others, swearing to himself softly. "We better get them to Medbay, Prime. We have to examine them and take the worst cases first."

Prime nodded, turning and walking outside giving orders to organize the relief. He personally transformed and they loaded refugees into his trailer, others following example. Springer, formatting into a Topkick truck took a load of younglings and two relatively young sparklings who were clinging to shocked and ill femmes. Driving toward the garrison, he radioed to Diego Garcia that they had an emergency and would need support.

Prowl, taking the call sent the second wave into readiness as they gathered in the rec room waiting for the ships to return. Before they did, Silverbolt walked to the three vessels that had brought the refugees, smiling with delight at their presence amongst their company once more.

Transforming with difficulty, Fireflight, Air Raid and Slingshot returned the welcome with all their exhausted delight.

=0=

TBC 2010 (11)

 

**Chapter 80: Chapter 80**

 

Thank you, Bluetoads. Your notes are always so nice. And thank you, all who write to me. I have gotten good direction from your comments about what I'm doing and nice observations tend to make new stories for me to write. I already have two waiting after this from reader comment alone.

=0=Tide

Ratchet hurried into Medbay, turning and watching as the worst case individuals were gently carried inside. Setting a bot down that looked like it had been moth eaten by metallic cannibals, the rescue team hurried out for more. Ratchet, watching them go, moved toward the patient and began to work. Behind him, lying on medbeds, the floor and leaning against the walls, a number more were brought.

Springer came in and out, helping shocked and injured mechs to come in and sit, fetching trays of energon and giving it to the patients under Hoist's direction. It made him sick to his stomach to see Cybertronians in such condition but he couldn't remember a time when he felt such happiness at the sight of their people coming home. He rose and walked back out in a hurry.

=0=Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

Energon cubes were stacked near to them and they looked at the Autobots, their optics seeking permission. Prime moved closer, kneeling. "You are safe. You are with the Autobots and we will protect you. You may energize until you feel well. That is why we put it on the table. It's for you and you do not have to ask permission."

A youngling mech, red and white paint faded and chipped looked at him with a look of such disbelief that Prime reached over and cupped his face with his hand. "It's all right. You are home."

A tear fell from his optics, sliding down his cheek and Prime rubbed it away. "Energize and then we'll have a medic look at you and your friends here." He looked at two smaller younger mechs.

"They're my brothers," the mech whispered. The two stared at Prime with unblinking optics and Prime felt his spark crush. He nodded and rose, turning, he handed energon to the younglings who took it hesitantly and then drank it as if they hadn't had energy in a long, long time.

Ironhide and Jazz, watching, shifted their peds in discomfort over the younglings' suffering. Prime stood watching them, thanking Primus for the humans, Mars and the resilience and goodness of his people.

=0=Outside

Prime and Ironhide stepped outside, watching as the Autobots worked with precision and skill to sort the new arrivals and organize their care and protection. Jazz, walking over from where he was talking to Springer, who as head of security for Autobot City and all of Mars was working with his teams to coordinate the reclamation.

"Prime, we have fifty individuals. There are forty-six mechs, four femmes. Four of them are as old as us, forty-six are not. There are nine younglings, eight mechs and one femme. Those younglings are orphaned. Three femmes each have a sparkling of varyin' ages. They are here with their bond mates, one of whom is in very bad condition in the Medbay. Ratchet gives that mech a 50/50 chance which means we may have another orphan pretty soon," Jazz said, his expression and tone grim. "There are thirty-one younglings in this group and all of them are mechs."

Prime nodded. "We have to have quarters for them. They will need to be divided by age and grouped in the barracks. I need you to find out their organization and try to keep those together that belong together, families if we have them. If some of them have been leading the group and they are still able and mentally stable, let them help you."

Jazz nodded and turned, moving back to Springer.

Ironhide returned with Prime to Ops Center, the senior Autobots there gathering around the three youngling mechs, who sat in chairs by the main control desk guzzling energon as if they were starving, which they had been. Prime watched them, a look of utter sorrow and wretchedness on his faceplates. Ironhide, a silent copy stood by his side. One of the mechs slowed, looking up at Prime and pausing. His expression was one of awe. "You live."

Prime pulled up a chair and sat, smiling kindly. "I do. And I am so happy to learn that you do as well."

"We tried," the youngling said, glancing at his brothers who sat in their chairs, sated and sleepy.

"What is your designation?" Prime asked.

"I am Rambler," he said, sitting up straighter. "This is my brother, T-Bar and my younger brother, Spirit. We never thought we would ever see you, sir. You almost didn't seem real, like a story the older mechs and femmes would tell us to keep us going."

Prime smiled sadly. "We have been trying to organize a place for our people and now that you are here, this is home." As he spoke, the littlest mech, Spirit, rose and walked to stand in front of Prime. He looked at him and then slipped his arms around Prime's neck. Prime gathered him, holding him tightly. T-Bar sat holding a half empty energon cube and looked at Prime with an exhausted expression. Rambler, his burdens lifted just a little leaned down and held his helm in his hands, shaking with relief and despair.

Ironhide turned and looked at the floor for a moment and then turned again, walking to the younglings and kneeling down between them, pulling them against his chassis and holding them, the sounds of their wailing filling the quiet room.

=0=A little bit later

Prime walked into Medbay, searching among the patients for a mech named Copper. Ratchet, pausing to sip energon, pointed him out. He lay on a medberth hooked up and in dire straits. Walking to the young mech, noting his condition, the weight of his femme bond mate and sparkling on Prime's processor, he stood gathering himself and then he began to roll back his chest plating until the pure white light of the Matrix began to emerge.

Ratchet, pausing along with everyone else in the room watched as Prime tripped the spark chamber latch on the mech. When his light streamed out, pale and feeble, Prime with infinite care gathered the mech into his arms and leaned into him, their sparks beginning to mingle as their chambers came into proximity. The white light brightened, filling the mech's chamber, tendrils of energy slipping up and around the body of the silent figure, drawing out and sharpening his energy. For a moment they just stood together and then Prime lay him back down, closing his chamber with a gentle touch. His own closed and he looked at the monitors, Ratchet joining him.

It was silent a moment as Ratchet checked the numbers and then a bit of a load lifted from him. "He looks much better. Thank you," Ratchet said quietly. "He could make it now."

"He has to," Prime said. "His femme and sparkling need him to. **I** need him to."

Ratchet nodded and watched as Prime walked back out, the room filled with a silent awe. Then he turned and went back to work.

=0=Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia, Earth

Silverbolt, Cosmos and Sky Dive landed and the surge of Autobot soldiers carrying supplies and other things thronged out, entering and lifting off with the jets. Lennox and Graham, standing by a hangar nearby looked at each other. Then as one, they began to trek toward the Ops Center and a clue.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They shifted mechs and femmes, sparklings and adults, helping them to get the first wash some of them probably had in vorns. The refugees were strangely quiet Springer noted, holding a sparkling in his arms as its femme carrier washed nearby with shaky servos and movements. He could see signs of abuse on their chassis and limbs as the grime and dirt washed off and their paint schemes were in sad disrepair.

The sparkling, clinging to him tightly stared at him with unwavering optics, fear cloaking him like a second skin. Springer, his spark squeezing hugged the sparkling, its silence disturbing. He had heard from Ratchet that sparklings made sounds, chirps and whirrs that everyone found delightful. He had heard that they even could purr when content. But this sparkling, like the other two nearby in the arms of his soldiers were silent. It was grievously wrong he considered, shifting gently from ped to ped as he comforted the little shocked infant in his arm.

=0=On the way

Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Mirage, Hound and Trailbreaker sat silently, each of them considering what the refugees would mean to their lives and world. From the sounds of things, they were in bad shape which meant someone had abused them and they had somehow managed to escape with the help of the Aerialbots.

What they were going toward, they couldn't know but it would be the first time that refugee Cybertronians found safety with Autobots in the length of time that they had been part of the Cybertronian Diaspora themselves and that made this moment unique for them. As they streaked through space toward their new home and increased population, they wondered how many more Cybertronians were lost and desperate in the galaxy around them. Every one of them was disturbed by the thought.

=0=At the air field

They pumped energon into the Aerialbots directly, bypassing the niceties of energon cubes. They were deeply debilitated and exhausted having crossed space with their holds filled with their fellows, making their way toward the spot where their Prime's voice issued. Sanctuary. Safety. The clarion call reached through space and it was being answered.

Silverbolt and Sky Dive had been ecstatic to see them and had been reluctant to leave to go to earth but they did, hurtling through the darkness toward the blue marble that had made it all possible. Now they were coming back, soldiers and specialists in their holds and soon they would be five, soon they would be whole again. They would defend their new home, their family and countrymen and even if it required them to form Superion, they would do it.

Cosmos, happy as well buzzed along with his hold full of supplies and extra energon. The plant on Mars was starting to make bulk quantities and that was good he thought, soaring with exuberance alongside his colleagues as they closed the gap to the red planet and home.

=0= TBC 2010 (12)

This is a shorty today. I have to go out but I will be back and working out the story as the guys won't leave me alone. Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day. -me

 


	9. Chapter 91-100

=0=The Diego Diaries

 

#91: Nast(y)

 

=0=The Conference Room, Diego Garcia

They waited, conversation light or non-existent. Prime sitting back in his chair, a datapad in his hand didn't look up when Springer returned carrying Nast in the same manner as he had carried Jaspers. Setting him down none too gently on the table all optics turned toward the human who sat in shock for a moment before rising to back away as he looked around frantically for escape. There was none.

"Take a seat, Nast," Prowl said leaning forward on his elbows, his door wings flicking in tension. "Now."

Prowl's soft demand, his cool optics and his imposing form leaning into Nast's face shook the human out of his torpor and he moved sitting on the chair. Prime who was 'fascinated' with his datapad didn't watch preferring whatever braggadocio Nast brought with him to bleed out under the capable ice cold optics of Prowl.

For a moment it was silent as both sides regarded each other without comment. Then Jazz leaned in peering at Nast closely. "You should talk to us and tell us everythin' without leavin' out any details, Mr. Nast. Jaspers already told us enough to have you shot for treason by the Americans."

" **I'm** an American and **you** can't hold me or treat me like this," Nast said defiantly even as his voice quavered slightly.

"You made me laugh just a little, Mr. Nast. There isn't anything in your law or Constitution that protects ya from laws of other nations or sovereign groups. You aren't on American soil. You're in the Autobot Embassy and therefore ya only have rights if we say you do."

He looked at Jazz in disbelief as fear formed on his face. He struggled with the idea that no amount of talk, money or bullshitting was going to get him out of the mess he was in. How could he reach a machine?

"You need to tell us about High Flyer," Jazz continued.

"High Flyer?" Nast asked repeating Jazz in his muddled condition.

Jazz nodded.

Nast sat a moment, then gathered himself looking at Jazz defiantly. "And if I don't tell you about him or anything or anyone else? What then?"

Prime lowered his datapad regarding Nast levelly. "Then I would be obliged to give you to Springer."

Nast startled at the sound of the name glancing around, finally spying the green and yellow mech sitting against the wall. Springer, a humorless smile on his face waved his hand. Nast shrunk back in his chair turning to look at Prime nervously. "If I tell you what I know what will I get in return?"

It was silent a moment, then Prime leaned slightly forward. "I'll tell my 'bondmate' not to step on you when he takes you back to the brig."

Nast looked back at Springer who was grinning slightly. Then he looked at Prime. "I thought you were supposed to be some kind of upright good guy."

Prime smiled slightly. "You have endangered my family and my people. What would you do in my place?"

Nast stared at him trying to reconcile the commentary of High Flyer, the news cycle and eyewitnesses to the figure before him. He didn't know what to think but he knew that the green and yellow mech sitting quietly against the wall, his blue-eyed gaze never leaving him was no one to fool with. He turned and leaned back trying to relax even though he had never been more scared in his life. "What do you want to know?"

Jazz smiled.

=0=Sunstreaker

He sat at his duty station on the command deck of Autobot City's Ops Center silently fuming. When they had finished with the refugees Sideswipe had gone back with Prime to Earth and he was left here to assist in the repatriation of the newcomers. It annoyed him at first although off duty drag races on the plateau were living up to everything he thought they would be when he had first come here.

Yet being here left Sideswipe a clear field with Bluestreak and he could tell when there was something going on when the twin bond was tamped down. He thought about Sideswipe being intimate with Blue, putting their tenuous relationship with Prowl on the line and he was pissed.

He was aware that Sides had gone on a mission and though the jealousy of Sideswipe being in action without him along bothered Sunstreaker, the relaxation afterward with Blue was worse. He had even teased Sunstreaker about it. Of course, Sunstreaker had gotten even ...

: **SIDESWIPE!** :

The dampened bond only echoed back to him driving him further into a spiral of anger than if he could have seen and felt what the two were doing. Rolling in a tight circle of impotent rage he paused with a grin.

:Sunstreaker to Prowl:

A pause. Then an answer. :Prowl here. Sunstreaker?:

:Affirmative. I just wanted you to know that my slaggin' brother is probably putting moves on Bluestreak right now:

A pause. :Really:

:He is. I can feel it. You better go save Bluestreak. We all know what a slagger my brother is:

A pause. The impression of a chuckle... :I will. Prowl out:

He paused leaving the door open to Sideswipe as he waited. Then it was back. : **SUNSTREAKER**! **YOU FRAGGER**!:

It was all good Sunstreaker thought, the music of his brother's incoherent rage filtering through him as he made his way to the firing range. :Are you talking to me, Sideswipe? I can't hear you:

The invective grew even louder.

Sunstreaker only smiled bigger, a scary prospect to everyone who had to pass him as he want on his way.

=0=Conference Room, Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia

Nast looked at Jazz coolly finally collecting his composure. "High Flyer? He's a client. Someone who posts on the inhouse listserv."

"How did he get on? It's private and closed," Jazz asked.

"I don't know. I don't concern myself with trivial inhouse items like that," Nast said folding his arms in front of him regarding Jazz with something of his normal arrogance.

"You spoke with High Flyer," Jazz said, "several times. Tell us about that. Who contacted who and what transpired?"

Nast shrugged. "He contacted me on my office phone which is private and heavily encrypted. It was a neat piece of hacking but then he has the money and interest. I'm sure he has the best experts possible working for him."

"Content. Tell us about the content especially requests, partnership ideas and the like," Jazz persisted.

"He wanted to help me get what I'm paying lobbyists millions for, weapons that you have so that I reverse engineer them, make them, sell them."

"Our treaties forbid us from doing so," Prime said. His own blue optics cast a formidable glare at Nast who leaned back but didn't bow.

"Your treaties don't work here," Nast countered.

Prime leaned forward impaling Nast with his gaze. "Our treaties work everywhere." Prime leaned back.

"Continue," Jazz said his own disgust evident.

Nast shrugged. "We made arrangements to get weapons because he said he had a pipeline into the Decepticons. I didn't believe him but came around when he sent me pictures of their weapons, real pictures taken of them. I believed him and made arrangements which you and your group interrupted each time."

Jazz nodded smiling humorously. "Slaggin' right. Tell us about High Flyer."

Nast considered that. "He is strange-sounding and a freak about secrecy. He has the right ideas though. Wants Earth for humans and all you machines out. He has supported the right candidates and he has a lot of investments into the media and other businesses. He wants what he wants. And I am not in disagreement with him."

"What does he want?" Prowl asked quietly.

"World domination," Nast said smiling. "With me at his side, control of the world, its resources and population. The right application of fear, money and rhetoric in the right places by the right people at the right time, maybe aided with an event here and there and it can be done. People are sheep. They'll even follow you when you take their last dime or their last loaf of bread. High Flyer knows that."

"He does does he," Jazz said quietly.

Nast looked at him, curiosity warring with the studied indifference on his face. "He's my kind of guy. The politicd are bullshit but the end goal isn't."

Jazz nodded. "You really are a fragger aren't you, Mr. Nast.

He just sat and stared a smirk on his face. "If you say so, robot."

=0=Elsewhere

Bluestreak carried the youngling in his arms to the water's edge and set him down. The others following slowly, fearfully pausing just short of the incomprehensible immensity of water. T-Bar holding onto Bluestreak tightly looked down at his little peds and watched as the tide lapped lazily against them. It felt really good so he loosened his hold slightly smiling up at Bluestreak. Looking over his shoulder he saw his brothers and Silverbow in a huddle, Hound, Sideswipe and Trailbreaker standing around them protectively.

T-Bar slipped his arm free and allowed Bluestreak to hold his waist as he looked at the water. Reaching down he touched it with his servo, the warmth of it surprising. Stepped forward he felt his peds sinking into the sand, the water coming in and going out around them, carrying away and bringing sand with it each time. He chuckled, a soft sound to the adults who looked at him with delighted surprise.

Rambler dropping Spirit's servo walked to where T-Bar was standing looking down at his peds marveling at the sight. He bent down and touched the water looking at Bluestreak with a smile. Hound picking up Silverbow walked toward the three, kneeling. Silverbow sitting on Hound's knee her little yellow cup clutched in her hands looked at the sea with wonderment. She looked up at Hound who gently set her down on her peds in the water.

Staring at it for a moment she bent down and put her cup into it, filling and tipping it so that the water ran out. Smiling, she looked up at Hound and Trailbreaker, then chirped. She asked them 'what?', pointing to the water as she did. They looked at her, coolant pooling in their optics and explained. As they did Sideswipe pulled out a pail and some oversized spoons he had gotten from the N.E.S.T. commisary from his carry hold and set them down in the sand. Spirit clinging to his leg let go, walked to them picking a spoon and staring up at him. Sideswipe sat down and picked up a spoon filling the bucket with sand. Spirit watching him sat down and began to help.

They would play together filling and unfilling the bucket with water and sand until it was time to step back into the treeline. The adults would transform and the younglings sit inside for the forty-five minute window that the low level satellites overhead would take before being out of range to photograph them. Then they would return to the sand and water playing quietly until dinner.

=0=TBC

 

#92: Nast(y) Part Two

 

=0=Conference Room, Diego Garcia, Autobot HQ

"You would criticize me? I **live** here. This is **my** planet. You don't belong here. If anyone is a freak its you."

The already cool temperature dropped considerably as Prowl leaned toward Nast. "Freak like us? **You** conduct business with anonymous billionaires, **you** kill civilians for money, **you** betray **your** country and **you** call **us** freaks?"

The softness of Prowl's voice did nothing to soften the blow of the words and as he sat back the impact was not lost on Nast. But he had nothing so he pressed on. "Prove it."

Jazz and Prowl glanced at Prime who nodded, his expression unchanged. They turned and rose flipping on screens, pulling data up as they showed without any doubt whatsoever that Nast and Intel-Martin was not only dealing with Decepticons but had sold a 17% share of the company to the 'elusive billionaire ideologue'. Holding the last card, the identity of the 'elusive billionaire idealogue' they watched him hoping he would crack. Nast staring at the data, hearing his own voice on phone calls, reading his own emails and watching film of himself at locations where things were decided wrestled with his mind to keep his expression straight and unconcerned. But the icy fingers of fear gripped him and he knew he was done without a deal.

=0=The Cheerful femmes of the United States Armed Forces

They got onto their bulletin board the day they had put the Christmas tree up for the younglings, beginning their networking with their sisters at bases around the orld.

To: Lissie, Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center, San Diego

From: Jessie Landon, Diego Garcia

Hey, Lissie. We have a favor to ask. Could you find the following items and get them shipped via Air Force to us before Christmas Day? We have children who won't have a Christmas without your help. :)

A pink bear

Silver ribbon

Three brown bears

All of the bears have to be enormous. At least four feet tall.

Footballs, round balls, blocks that are sort of biggish, not the little bitty ones. We have a couple of airmen making some but we would like some that are made with letters and/or maybe pictures. Wooden toys are cool too.

Maybe even a really big soft huggy dolly.

Pop-up books

Fuzzy slippers, maybe adult size. Big

Anything else that would entertain or comfort a child.

You are the best. Tell everyone in San Diego Jessie says hi.

Jessie

Lissie read the email and figured it out. Then she turned opening an email form to a friend in Germany...

To: Sherese, Ramstein Air Base

From: Lissie, San Diego

**HI!** We got an emergency need to fill. If we get some toys together can we ship them to you and get a fast track to Diego Garcia before Christmas? Jessie has kids. You know. ;) This is so awesome. Let me know, Sherese.

X0, Lissie

Sherese read the email and smiled turning to the three women and two men in her admin unit. "Boys and girls, we have a priority one Santa emergency going down in Diego Garcia."

They read the email and grinned. "Better hump it then," Airman Samantha Purvis said.

They all nodded and turned to the internet as Sherese copied the email and rose walking to the airfield to ask a favor.

The network lit up the world as people responded putting things together until a package was finalized at Andrews Air Base in Maryland. Overnight the different components were flown in and packed carefully into a large wooden crate after being wrapped. Placed with them were dozens of cards filled with pictures and good wishes from the twenty-seven people who had a hand in making the gift possible. The package was then strapped down on a transport plane to begin the circuitous route to Diego Garcia as the plane made its stops along the way. By the time it set down the night would be passing and the designation 'Christmas Day' would be falling over the hushed sleepy isle of Diego Garcia.

=0=Conference Room, Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia at the same time

Nast sat struggling to appear unconcerned but he had been shown enough to know that he had no outs, no leeway, nothing. If they turned him into the authorities he was never going to see daylight again. He would probably get a firing squad because of the numerous counts of treason that he so clearly committed. Even the idea of prison made him ill.

Prime watched him following the stages of his 'grief' with a practice made of eons of similar moments of revelation. He had seen this before, deluded criminals thinking that they could make alliances with the Decepticons and finding out that there was no partnership, there never would be and there never could be. The only Cybertronians who ever entered into alliances and kept them were the Autobots.

"So you know," he finally said. "What do you want me to do about it and what's in it for me?"

Prime laying aside his datapad at last leaned forward clasping his servos together. "Well, Mr. Nast, we are very glad that you asked..."

=0=Later that afternoon

They walked out of the conference room, Springer heading toward the brig with his latest human rag doll in servo. He walked to the brig, Inferno letting him in, then set the human down with only less indifference than before. As he turned to go Nast hollered up at him. Springer paused, all twenty-five feet of yellow and green mech giving off an efortless menace. He looked down at the human, his gaze filled with checked malice. "What?"

Nast walked to the bars asking in spite of himself. "Are you really bonded with Prime?"

Springer looked at Nast, turning his head to one side as he peered down. Then he knelt bringing himself closer to Nast. "Why?"

Nast considered him. "High Flyer wants to sell you to me. I want to know why he hates you."

Springer considered a number of answers he could give turning them over and over in his helm. Then he settled on the one he gave because he was a **FRAGGIN' WRECKER!**

**WRECK 'N Rule!**

"Maybe its because he's not getting any and I am."

With that, he rose to his full height, shot a withering gaze at all four humans and turned walking out with a nod to Inferno on the way. Inferno grinning slightly looked at them with a sad shake of his head. "Never frag with a Wrecker, dumb afts. Never."

They just stared at him without a clue.

=0=Conference Room, Diego Garcia

They sat together, Springer joining them and worked out a snare for Starscream. The intention was to catch him and haul his sorry ass to Diego Garcia. If they could take down Starscream the list of potential leaders with Megatron gone or missing was negligible.

Even if it probably wouldn't end the war it might mean a respite and every day they weren't fighting was a day Autobot City could add one more piece to its mosaic. It would mean one more day for refugees to come, to hear Prime's call and find refuge and respite.

And home.

They worked long into the afternoon working out the bits and pieces that would drop the net on enemy number one. Hopefully, they thought. Hopefully.

=0=Later that night

Ironhide snuck in removing his cannons, other general mayhem-apaloosa and crept to the berth. His sensors had scanned the room and all its contents including a reclining Ratchet. He knew that the medico wasn't recharging. He sat and patted Ratchet's thigh. "Waiting up?"

"Sure," Ratchet said tugging on Ironhide to recline. He did and Ratchet turned tossing a leg and arm over his body. "Got the goods on the jack afts?"

"Yep," Ironhide said pulling Ratchet against his chassis. "How is the sparkling?"

"Exuberant."

"Hurt much?"

"Only when I smile."

Pause. Grin. "You've been watching those soap opera things again."

"As The Kitchen Sinks?" Ratchet replied. "Sort of a slow day."

"Those are the good days," Ironhide said rubbing Ratchet's back plates with his servo.

"The femmes at N.E.S.T. have something going on for tomorrow. They want us in the younglings play room for a Christmas thing."

"What kind of Christmas thing?" Ironhide asked. "They do know we aren't from around these parts?"

Ratchet snorted. "I think so." It was silent a moment. "I think they like the younglings."

"What's not to like?" Ironhide agreed.

"Silverbow actually talked today," Ratchet said smiling. "She's so very cute."

"What did she say?" Ironhide asked.

"What."

"What?"

"She said what."

"That's what I'm asking. What did she say?"

Ratchet paused considering that he had heard this kind of thing before. Then it came to him, a TNT movie special on comedians. Grinning rather wolfishly he began. "What."

"What? Ratchet, have you gone off your processor? I'm asking what she said."

"What."

Ironhide trying to figure out the angle involved in the conversation decided to cut his losses. "Well, if you're going to be an aft, I'll ask Hound. At least I know who."

"Who? He's on first."

It was silent a moment, steam rising out of Ironhide's audials, then Ratchet filled him in. After watching the peerless clip from the peerless comedians Ironhide roared. Then he filed it away in the document dump entitled 'Things to do to Prime on a slow day".

=0=TBC

 

For those of you who don't get the exchange, Google Bud Abbot and Lou Costello and you will find out. Brilliance, thy name is Abbott and Costello.

 

=0=

#93: The Night Before Christmas

 

*Autobot City, 2100 hours plus change if it were earth, but since Martian days are 24 hours, 37 minutes and 22 seconds long it isn't*

=0=Springer

Springer walked through the hub after making his rounds. It was his habit to go to every spot in the fortress and its outlying areas to determine for himself the situation at hand. The refugees, those who weren't in the work schedule at this hour were relaxing in lounges, in their makeshift quarters or sitting together in the hallway talking softly.

The garrison had just swung shift, the night crew coming aboard. The energon plant was working smoothly as was the smelter and refinery. They were going to be shoring up more underground tunnels with the idea of building rooms and corridors off the main shafts. These would be storerooms and housing for refugees. Once they could ascertain the longterm threat to their city they could begin to build above ground again. For now, the fortress was the only above ground building at Autobot City. He continued onward making his way to Ops Center where he would finish his shift and turn it over to Kup when the sun rose in the sky once more.

When it was Christmas Day on Earth.

=0=Sunstreaker

He stood on the flight line, others with him, gear and freight getting priority in Cosmos' hold. He was going back to the garrison on Earth and would remain there pending a new assignment. Apparently there was something brewing and he was glad to be included. The line shifted and they moved forward hauling their gear and weapons on their backs and shoulders. Sunstreaker entered walking to the front to sit and relax. Soon he would be home again. None too soon he considered as he off lined his optics for the ride.

=0=Hound and Trailbreaker

They walked around the airfield, Silverbow in Trailbreaker's arms. Hound, his sensors scanning the area found no cameras or intruders. So they continued walking around the Air Force planes explaining them to Silverbow as she chirped and whispered questions. That she was still using sparkling speech was a concern to the two of them. That she was speaking at all was a miracle.

The clock edged toward eleven as they took a stroll, a new family on a new planet moving toward a new day.

=0=Bluestreak

He sat on the beach leaning into Sideswipe watching the stars overhead. Somewhere far away was Cybertron. Somewhere far away lay the unburied bodies of most of his city's inhabitants. He tried not to dwell on it during the day because then it would come during recharge. Keeping the light in his life was hard enough as it was sometimes.

He would be bonded soon to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The walls would fall and he would have no defenses to them knowing things about him that he couldn't even look at himself half the time. They would know about his loss, about the intense abiding care Prowl gave to him, about his dreams about peace some day and a family.

The war couldn't go on forever. Some day they would live at Autobot City and do other things. Sunstreaker could be an artist again. He and Sideswipe would find out what their talents truly were besides fighting and shooting. That would be a great day. They would have sparklings of their own. A family they could protect and raise just like Prowl did for him.

It could have been so different. He could have been left by Prowl at an orphan station. But he wasn't. Now he was here, a full-grown mech on the edge of something wonderful and he felt a lightness in his spark that was a rarity. Looking up at Sideswipe who was looking at the moon above them, Bluestreak had that talk with him at last.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet

They lay in recharge spooned together, arms around each other. All the years of war and the endless emotional traumas they shared were washed away in their repose. Their sparkling, himself falling into whatever recharge a sparkling has was still and restful.

The clock moved toward 11:15 pm. Earth time. Home time.

=0=Prowl

He gathered the toys that lay scattered on the floor putting them into the little box that sat in a corner of the room. The little mechs were sleeping on their shared bed in a room that was annexed to their own quarters. It was small, the doorway new and the bed wide enough for three. Tucked under a blanket, they were sound asleep dreaming whatever little mechs dream when they recharge.

Prime stood over them watching, memorizing their little faces. He loved and wanted them, almost feeling fate behind the having of them. As he stood watching he was thinking ahead, planning ahead, dedicating himself to the effort of providing them a safe long-term home. There were others too who were lost, faraway and coming to his call. He saw them every time he laid his eyes on the mechs. They would need his best effort too.

Prowl came behind him slipping his arms around Optimus. "They are so wonderful," he whispered.

"They are," Optimus said. "We have to get them all, Prowl. No one must be lost anymore. None of them."

Prowl nodded, then tugged at Prime pulling him into his arms as they stood together watching the future of their people sleeping on the berth.

It was close to 11:30 pm

=0=At the N.E.S.T. HQ

The femme soldiers and their Air Force accomplice stood in the office, the crate they had worked for sitting outside on the pavement. They were sending off acknowledgments to everyone who had helped them thanking them for helping to change a moment that was memorable into something entrancing.

Turning at last, they walked outside with a crowbar and pried open the lid. Staring inside, crying in delight, they began to pull things out.

=0=At the flight line at Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia

Cosmos set down disgorging his manifest before transforming to walk to the site where all the Aerialbots were recharging. He walked past the femmes all of whom called out and waved. Pausing, chatting for a moment he turned and continued on after wishing Merry Christmas back. He would have to find out what that meant when he was less tired he thought. Right now, recharge and the company of his fellow aerialists called him on.

=0=Rec Room

They sat here and there, some of them talking, some playing games. The night was late and they were either coming off a shift or waiting until the last moment to go on one. They sat and drank energon, whiling away the night.

=0=Sunstreaker

He entered the hangar rolling to his quarters to find them empty. Seeking his brother he turned and rolled out again heading for the beach. Jumping the fence easily he continued down the beach stopping before the pair as they sat together. Sunstreaker giving his brother a disgusted look knelt and pulled Bluestreak in for a kiss. Blue kissed him back then sat back against Sideswipe once more. Patting the sand he smiled. "Sit down, Sunny. We have a few things to consider."

Sunstreaker glancing from Sideswipe's smirking face and Blue's beautiful smile sat. 

Hesitantly.

=0=Lennox

He stood on the deck of his house beer in hand, eyes on the sky. Behind him light spilled out of his house as his family came together to open presents on Christmas Eve, an old cherished family tradition. The sky was velvety black and the stars twinkled. Somewhere among them was a forlorn world, a world that destroyed by its own people. He couldn't imagine the life they had led, the suffering and deprivation, the loss and the hopes dashed. He loved them, all of them and was glad in a way his family would never know evem a small part of their life.

The Autobots would have a home he thought. The children coming and the ones here, they would have a place that was theirs, that they belonged to in a real way. His daughter had this place. Their younglings and sparklings would have it too. Will raised his bottle and sighed. "Merry Christmas, Optimus. Merry Christmas, Autobot garrison." He took a sip, then turned walking back into the house once more.

In the distance the sound of fireworks could be heard as someone somewhere lit up the night telling in their own way to anyone who heard Merry Christmas to all.

It was midnight in California. It was Christmas Day.

=0=London, England

Niall Graham and his wife walked from the play down to a pub in the Theater District. Walking inside, the noise and people almost overwhelming, they found seats in a snug and ordered. All around them people celebrated, singing and laughing, making the world alive with their enthusiasm. He sat back clicking his beer glass with his wife's and took a long sip. As he did he wondered how the Autobots were doing and if they had holidays themselves. He would have to ask when he got back in January. Until then he turned to his wife and enjoyed himself.

=0=Epps

The children were in bed and he was helping wash the dishes. Chatting with his wife he felt at peace. Of course, the others could never know that he did dishes. His mother and grandmother taught him to respect work no matter what it was so he had few sexist ideas around his house. His wife was a stand up woman. She made sure he didn't either.

The dogs were roaming around their feet, the evening was quiet and they were catching up. It was perfect and it was home. Even as he felt the comfort of it, the rightness of it he couldn't help but wonder what the Autobots were doing.

The next day they would drive down to the Lennox place to share a day of barbecue and relaxation. Maybe they could call and check in he thought taking glasses out of the rinse water. That might be the thing to do.

=0=Nast and Company

They sat in their cells, blankets and food provided. They didn't speak to each other, the anger and hatred between them enough to power a small town if it could be converted to energy. They had no idea when they would be let out or if they would be dumped into the ocean, turned into the feds or ripped limb from limb. They just knew they were stuck. They had forgotten even the day.

The Autobots in charge of the brig seemed chosen for their smartass stubbornness Nast thought glaring at Inferno as he sat at his post talking in their weird language with the other one, Red Alert. **There** was a robot that looked like he was going to throw a spring. He stared at them, then turned continuing his pacing once more. Christmas arrived but he wouldn't know. And in light of things he wouldn't care.

=0=Starscream

He looked at the emails, the two that he had sent replied by Nast and one from him stating that he was going to spend four days out of contact due to Christmas. Starscream pondered that, the idea of Christmas. He hated sentimentality and the idea of a god that could come to save you. You saved yourself because no one else came out of the ether to help you. Then he paused. Maybe there were gods. After all Megatron had disappeared. Primus must exist.

He smiled a humorless smile, then sat on the hillock staring at the stars overhead unaware that on Earth it was Christmas. Equally oblivious but watching with concern, Thundercracker, Sky Warp followed by Dirge and Thrust watched their leader as he brooded.

=0=TBC

 

#94: Christmas Day

 

=0=Epps

His family sat in the car singing as they drove southward. They were on their way to the Lennox farm and the kids were singing Christmas songs. His wife sang too but he tried not to. He sort of had a 'key' problem. His dogs were singing as well adding their 'barkatones' to the mix when the right note was sung. He just drove, smiling and adding his own two cents when he could.

=0=Lennox

He came down the stairs, his dog beside him as he walked with his daughter into the kitchen. They were getting ready for friends and family including the Epps' who were on their way. Even though they were worked together all the time they were fast friends as well. Their families were close and they did things together on the time off that they had. N.E.S.T. was a tough mistress but the families were dedicated.

=0=Diego Garcia

The routine began as it always did. Shifts changed and mechs went to recharge, re-energize and relax. The Three R's as the soldiers called it. Optimus Prime walked to the rec room with T-Bar in his arms. Rambler hopped and skipped ahead of him as Prowl brought up the rear with Spirit curled against his chassis.

The mechs who saw the kids smiled, talked to and teased them ... it warmed Prime's spark. They needed this he thought. The five remaining orphans needed help too and he found himself looking around considering his mechs both here and at Autobot City for suitable guardians.

They sat at a table joined by Hound, Trailblazer and a smiling more outgoing Silverbow. Energon and conversation among friends of long standing started the day at Autobot HQ. They would go about their business and at noon their time they would gather in the younglings' playroom for the soldier and air force femmes who asked them to go there for a 'Christmas Surprise'.

Unknown to Prowl, Prime had scanned the internet finding nothing to hint at what it could be. Prowl had done the same thing unbeknownst to Prime. With their usual good humor the two sat together enjoying the morning in the midst of their comrades waiting for noon.

Nervously.

=0=Ratchet and Ironhide

They rousted themselves walking to the rec room to sit with Prime and his family. Silverbow remembering Ratchet looked at him with unblinking optics. Ratchet smiled and she smiled back. Then she gathered her nerve, sliding off Hound's lap yellow cup in hand. She walked around the table looking at Ratchet shyly. Ratchet reached out and picked her up settling her on his lap. She leaned back and pointed at Hound. Smiling up at Ratchet she clicked the sparkling designation for father.

Hound with coolant pooling in his optics looked at her with an almost savage love. Then she pointed at Trailbreaker and said the same thing. The big mech smiled at her shaking his helm. How was it possible he thought to love someone so much?

Ratchet grinned at Ironhide who looked at Silverbow like she was made of platinum. "Good practice," Ratchet said bouncing the youngling on his knee.

=0=Brig

The day was just another one for the four prisoners. They had no idea what was going on anywhere else. They just had the four walls, the guards and each other. In other words, it was hell.

=0=Ironhide and Ratchet

They walked to Medbay bouyed by the great morning. Ironhide glanced at Ratchet. "Femmes are cute."

"They are."

"Makes me want to have one," Ironhide said as they rounded the door and entered.

Ratchet pausing looked up at Ironhide and smiled. "And I'll be there to catch it."

Ironhide paused. "Let me rephrase that, Ratchet."

Ratchet grinned.

=0=NOON at the Youngling's Room

The word had gotten out and a lot of mechs were there already sitting around the walls and the floor. The far wall had been opened, the sliding doors moved back so more could attend the "Christmas Surprise" for the younglings. The Christmas tree was lighted and very colorful attracting the younglings right away. Once their peds hit the floor they were at the tree sitting or kneeling in front of it looking at the bright decorations.

Prime, Prowl and Hound sat along the wall next to the tree making room for others. Trailblazer stood along the back wall with Ratchet, Ironhide and Jazz. Mirage, the twins, Bluestreak, all of the off duty second shift and the rest were waiting, no one having the faintest idea of what to expect.

A beeping sound was heard outside so Ratchet peered out of the door watching as a heavily laden hummer came driving up. Another one followed filled with femmes. They stopped by the door waving up at Ratchet. "Ratchet! Merry Christmas!"

Ratchet grinned. "Merry Christmas. What are you doing and do you need any help?" he asked.

"You could help us carry these bags and that box," they said.

Ratchet moved leaning down to pick up a big bag. He turned and gave it to Ironhide who also took the other one. Picking up a long slim box Ratchet turned to wait as the femmes came inside. There were seven of them now, more than the first group and they were welcomed cheerfully by the Autobots. The younglings sitting by the tree watched them, Silverbow rising to walk self consciously to stand between Trailbreaker's legs. She peered out, her yellow cup in her servos and watched, her optics never leaving the femmes.

Spirit glancing at Prime was reassured by his smile but moved closer to Rambler who was watching with unabashed interest, T-Bar at his side. The femmes gathered and Jessie Landon was pushed forward. She cleared her throat and smiled. "We are so happy to be here. Christmas is a holy day for some of us in our religion but it's also a children's holiday and part of that is giving gifts and toys to them.

"We thought about the little kids here, how it was Christmas and they weren't going to get any toys. We made the tree for them, then we made some contacts outside in the world asking for assistance so that Santa Claus would be able to come to Diego Garcia and make sure that the children here weren't missed when he flew by on his sleigh."

All of the Autobots within the sound of her voice instantly accessed the internet finding Santa Claus and the children's holiday part of the season. Grinning and nodding, they watched with deep fascination as the sweetest human femmes they ever met began to initiate 'Christmas Surpise'.

Jessie turning to Prime smiled. "Usually someone gets to be Santa Claus. We thought you would like to do the honors."

Prime blinked, snickers rising. Then he leaned forward missing completely the smirk on Prowl's face. "What does a Santa Claus do?"

"We will hand you the gift and you give it to the child whose name is on it," Jessie said chuckling. "Simple."

Prime smiled, glancing at Prowl who wiped his grin off immediately. "Sounds like a good duty," Prime said as laughter and clapping filled the space.

Jessie turned and nodded, one of the femmes reaching into the bag pull out a pink bear. Taking it she handed it to Prime. "This is for Silverbow."

Silverbow hearing her name looked up at Trailblazer and Hound. Trailblazer leaned down and pointed at the bear. "For you, baby," he said in their language.

She looked at him clutching her cup, then the bear, her optics wide at the sight of it. Looking up again she stepped forward hesitantly glancing at Hound and Trailbreaker as she came toward Prime. He held the bear out, a pink bear with a silver bow around its neck. She reached out tentatively touching its soft fur. She smiled and looked at Landon who was wiping tears at the time. She smiled and turned walking back to Trailbreaker. She handed him her cup, then turned walking back to the bear. She looked at Landon, then Prime, waiting.

Prime touched to speechlessness reached out the bear and she took it pressing her face against its soft fur. Then she smiled and looked at both of them, then Hound and Trailbreaker, then the bear. She walked to the tree and sat down pulling the bear into her lap. She held her arm against it, the pink of her paint scheme nearly the same color. She smiled again holding it tightly, watching all with bright optics.

They paused a moment, the whole group, then Landon turned pulling out three more bears, brown ones with big red bows. Handing them to the mechs, Prime felt a happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. More presents followed, slippers for their feet with bunny faces on them, blocks, pop-up books and art supplies. There were beads to string and a pull toy that made quacking noises. It was all wonderful.

Ratchet holding a box watched with amazement. What a great idea, 'Christmas Surprise'. Then Jessie turned to him smiling. "Ratchet has a box that has a toy they all can share especially when they get older. Right now I think that Rambler can use it with someone helping him."

They all looked at her, then Ratchet. Ratchet looking back looked in the box. "Do you want me to pull it out, Jessie?"

"Sure," Jessie said.

Ratchet did and a red bicycle with training wheels emerged. He set it down as Jessie turned to Prime. "Someone at Vandenburg thought a child should have a bicycle."

Prime nodded glancing at Rambler who was looking at a pop-up book with Prowl. Rambler looked up and saw the bike, transfixed for the moment at the sight. He looked at Prowl and Jessie wondering what it was. When she turned and wheeled it out the little bot rose and followed her. Half the room followed as well watching as she halted in the corridor.

Rambler watched her and when she beckoned he came, climbing on board. She had hold of him and began to move as he put his feet on the pedals. Pushing them himself, they moved slowly down the corridor turning at the junction to pedal slowly back. They paused at the door, Rambler enraptured, then went back again.

The party continued as soldier femmes, air force femmes and mech Autobots talked, played with the children or just watched. It was a new thing to most of the mechs. Having been in war most if not all their lives the simple pleasures of home, family, younglings and celebrations had been few and far between. This was the first children's party many of the mechs had ever seen let alone participated in.

The femmes finally left, duty calling and when they did no one noticed Sideswipe and Sunstreaker skate away heading for the tarmac beyond. They caught up with the femmes before they were back at their barracks cutting them off. Towering over the women, the two most feared frontliners in the Autobot Army bent down, Sideswipe kneeling. He leaned in and smiled at them. "If you femmes ever need anything, anything at all call on us. Sunstreaker and I will be there."

"Anything at all," Sunstreaker said, a predatory expression flitting across his face for a moment. The femmes surprised but delighted nodded.

"Thank you, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker," Jessie Landon said smiling. "We will. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Sideswipe said. "By the way, we're having a bonfire at the beach on your New Years. If you can come you are welcome."

"We'll be there," Jessie said the others nodding. Then they waved and drove off, the two watching them as they went.

For a moment they stood together silently watching them go. Then Sunstreaker turned to his brother. "What the frag really is Christmas?"

"I don't know," Sideswipe said. "But I like Christmas Surprise. Did you see Silverbow?"

"Frag ya," Sunstreaker said as they turned to go back. "How could you miss her? She's the prettiest femme in the whole slaggin' world."

Sideswipe for the first time in a while wholeheartedly agreed with his brother on something.

=0=TBC

#95: The Morning After

 

(NOTE: This is a seriously funny and well-written Transformer story and its called **All's Fair**. You can either put the author's name in the search line at this site: Steelcrash or you can put the website name in front of this s/5118285/1/

(It's 63 or so parts long for now. I sat reading it in one sitting. I howled. Prime is so darned **cute** in this story I could take him home. You will **NOT** regret it. And let her know. She is gifted.)

 

=0=The Morning After

They walked to Cosmos entering his big hold. A sack went with them too. It was filled with some of the toys the younglings were given chosen by them for the five orphans and the three sparklings at Autobot City. Cosmos lifted off taking seven front liners to Mars on a routine re-assignment.

=0=Autobot City, Mars at the same time

The sighting was not unexpected but it was unnerving. They turned their guns on the signal as it came to them over the outland arrays and made ready their defenses as the bogey skirted the atmosphere, such as it was. There were no Aerialbots on the planet, Cosmos was still inbound so Springer couldn't marshal a presence to greet the stranger.

"Springer to Prime."

The audio from Autobot City filtered out over the command deck as Springer reported. Prime and Prowl turning to go to a meeting at N.E.S.T. HQ paused and turned walking toward Teletraan II. "Prime here."

"We have a bogey. A Seeker," Springer said.

"What do you have on it?" Prime asked looking at the data pouring in from the outland arrays scattered through the solar system and its edge in the Oort Field. "Short hand, Springer."

"It's a scout, Prime. I expected one a lot sooner but they don't seem to be inclined to come close. They are outside the upper atmosphere and haven't come any nearer."

"We're sending the Aerialbots."

Prowl turned to the communications station and began to scramble them to leave as soon as possible.

"The bogey is hovering in a clear line of sight to Autobot City," Springer said. "We picked them up when they crossed the solar well but there was little to do but track them until now."

"Very well," Optimus said. "Hold your fire. I don't know if they're just trying to provoke, to test the range of our defensive weapons or scouting out the activity around Mars in greater detail. I am on my way."

"Affirmative. Springer out."

Prime turned and nodded to Prowl tapping Jazz on the shoulder as they walked to the door. The two went out and on the way pulled Ironhide and Bumblebee into their team as they walked to the flight line where the Aerialbots were assembling to leave. As they began to board the sound of the twins roaring up to join them added to the tension. Behind them Autobot HQ and a worldwide network of interlinked military and civilian operations centers who worked to track the Decepticons went into high alert.

=0=Starscream

He had finally figured out what had been bothering him. He hadn't had enough information. No one on the Nemesis was of any assistance for him. He had to figure this out alone as usual. The information wasn't complete. Something was off kilter. It would take more information before it all came clear. Nast was only one piece. Daniels and Galloway were another.

Springer and the others, they were ... off. His obsession was as strong as ever but it had morphed into something more uneasy, less clear and straightforward. Nast had been silent for three days now and Starscream was irritated stalking through the Nemesis talking to no one. Not even his trine mates earned a glance. They were outside the walls of his rage, his vengeance. They were only useful for what he could have them do. Until he had taken something from Prime, until he could show that he was truly the rightful leader of the Decepticons the shadow of Megatron and even the Fallen would continue to haunt him. It would continue to torment and tear him apart.

Standing close by, watching with a rising concern, Thundercracker and Skywarp shadowed him. His growing irrationality was frightening and they wondered what they could do. The sun arced across the sky, the light on the deck weak, filtering in from the star that held this system together. The cold outside was nothing compared to the cold in Starscream's spark as he worked through the growing madness for some sense of satisfaction against the Prime, his greatest enemy now that Megatron was missing and the Fallen dead.

He had to have one. It had been so long he couldn't function without one. Optimus Prime was the new Megatron and Starscream would take him down too. He had to. He no longer could do less and live.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They landed, the Aerialbots and Prime. Three of them made an orbital traverse, then took off breaking into three trajectories to cover the system quickly. Two landed waiting to be dispatched. Prime and his team drove to the HQ and transformed walking inside quickly. Springer turning from Teletraan III nodded. "We have identified the bogey as Thundercracker."

Prime nodded. "Is he still on the radar?"

"No," Springer said. "He left when the Aerialbots left Earth. I can only guess he was here to scout."

"That's not good," Prime said. "Not good at all."

=0=The Nemesis

Thundercracker paced turning to walk back and forth in the small space of the munitions hold in the forward bulkhead of the ship. Stacked up all around them was the ammunition that allowed their fight. It was all they had unless their supply lines could deliver more but that was now tenuous. Unrest was sweeping their empire and they needed to go, to turn back and consolidate unless it all slip away.

Slip away like Starscream's processor.

"They have built a city," he said, Skywarp leaning on a box listening nearby. "They have built a city and I know those refugees are there. The Aerialbots chased me off. Three of them. Two more are on the Earth. Cosmos is there too. They have made a place for themselves with allies and assured supplies. What do we have, Skywarp? Nothing but this dirt ball planet and a ... a leader that is going mad. What is it with command? What is it with Decepticon leadership that makes them mad?"

Skywarp shrugged. "He wants to harm Prime."

"It obsesses him. He mutters to himself. He won't interface anymore. There is nothing left between us, his **trine** , his closest allies."

Skywarp flickered his wings, shaking his head. "As long as we are here he won't give it up. For him to shut us out... that is a very bad sign."

"We have to leave this place and go back. We have to abandon them at least for now. The Autobots have us at stalemate. We cannot defeat them at present," Thundercracker said, pausing. "Maybe we cannot defeat them ever."

Skywarp shifted uneasily. "I have been harboring doubts myself."

"Yet Starscream is our leader and the troops hail him. This will not end well," Thundercracker said. He thought a moment shifting his gaze to Skywarp with dread. "We have to talk to Prime."

Skywarp didn't say anything.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They sat in Ops Center watching the data pour in analyzing it carefully. The Seeker had disappeared at the approach of the Aerialbots and had left the solar system jetting out of the solar well into empty space beyond. It seemed that things were going to fall back into stalemate when the message came through.

Springer working at Teletraan III saw the data as it hit the communications screen. Turning, he called to Prime who came forward reading it with him. They glanced at each other and turned gesturing the others to come join the discussion.

=0=Starscream

He paced all through the night, scenarios working into his thoughts, then discarded as others took their places. Skywarp sat nearby his expression unreadable. Behind him, Thrust and Dirge watched as well, disquiet filling them, suffusing the atmosphere of gloom that penetrated every corner of the Nemesis.

Thundercracker arrived later that day discussing the situation on Mars as he found it. The extent of construction was shocking and they talked for the first time that victory might never come. As it was, the empire they had crafted was beginning to unravel and would continue no matter if they evened the score they bore against this planet. Word was spreading out of system that the Decepticons could be defeated and were by the Autobots and a small organic species that had made an alliance with them. The fire was spreading everywhere.

The decision reached was done without Starscream, so Thundercracker left making his way back to the system once more and their mortal enemies, the Autobots. Starscream, his obsessions overriding his attention to details didn't notice. He was too busy trying to overthrow the enemy in his own personal war between his audials.

=0=Ops Center, Autobot HQ, Autobot City, Mars

The message was scrutinized carefully, every senior Autobot having their input. Then it was settled. A reply was formulated and sent. All it took now was to wait. Prime sat at the communications station sipping energon. Prowl leaning against the curve of the sweeping console that ran around the entirety of the command deck scrutinized him. "You're going to go out there."

"I am," Prime replied.

"We can have it covered but I still don't trust them," Prowl said a frown forming on his face.

"We have to find out if this is genuine."

"He wants Springer."

"He'll get Springer." Prime smiled slightly. "I couldn't not take my bondmate now could I?"

Prowl smirked slightly leaned closer. "No."

They grinned at each other and waited, the return ping on the receipt of their response passing down the arrays to Teletraan III as they stood bantering, passing the evening away waiting for morning to come.

It was go.

=0=Ironhide

:Ratchet:

:Ironhide:

He stood on the command deck of the Autobot City Ops Center waiting for the response from the Decepticons. As he did he considered that the day before they had celebrated 'Christmas Surprise' with the younglings. The five younglings and three sparklings also celebrated albeit a day late but the toys the younglings on Earth sent to them were appreciated.

He had peeked into the youngling play room and watched them as they built things and looked at the pictures in the strange alien books. Games and fluffy shoes were also much appreciated and as he did he considered that his sparkling would be born here, the first one in their new life. In two decaorns they would come here and it would become real.

Walking to the large table that stood in the center of Ops Center strewn with diagrams, code datapads and other army detritus he thought of what it would mean to have one of his own. Hound and Trailbreaker got Silverbow by default. Hound was the one who was delegated to carry her on the rounds they made getting checked out, identified, even detailed in their first day on Mars.

She had clung to them seeing them as her saviors and now they were applying to be given legal rights to her as guardian genitors. Prime and Prowl would do the same with the three little mechs once things cooled off. Right now they were stranded between peace and war with a Decepticon foe that was hard to gauge.

:How are ya?:

:I'm fine:

:The sparkling?:

:Racing around my spark like a glitchhead:

:Is that normal?: (Worried frown begins to grow)

:Yes:

:Oh: (Worried frown begins to fade)

:Anything happening yet?:

:No:

Pause.

:Ironhide ...:

:What?:

:I was watching 'As The Kitchen Sinks' and they had this commercial on the television. It was about phone sex:

Pause.

:Ratchet, you shouldn't be watchin' that sort of thing:

:Why not?:

:You might hurt yourself. Or the sparkling:

Pause.

:What are you talking about, you dumb aft?:

Pause.

:I don't know:

(Grin grows) :Ironhide?:

(Grin grows) :Ratchet?:

:Did I ever tell you how much I like to watch your aft when you walk away from me?:

Pause.

:Is this some of that phone sex?:

:Maybe:

:Oh:

(Big grin growing bigger) :Ratchet?:

:What ... big boy?:

Pause.

(Grin grows bigger) :I am aren't I? Ratchet?:

:What? You know, Ironhide, you're making my circuits all ... **hot** and **bothered**...:

Pause.

(Huge frown) :Is that bad? What's happening?:

Pause.

(Ginormous suppressed chuckle) :No. I mean you turn me on... make me want ya, you big dumb aft. You really have to get with the idea here, Ironhide. I'm doing all the work:

:Oh. Uh ... well, you have a great yellow aft yourself, big boy:

(Huge chuckle that can't be suppressed) :Is that so? And what do you want to do with my great yellow aft, you big swaggering mech's mech, you:

(Ginormous grin) :Well, I could just grab it in my two big servos and squeeze:

Nearby ...

"What do you suppose is wrong with Ironhide? He's been grinning like a jackaft and looking confused off and on for the past half breem," Prowl whispered to Optimus leaning down and nodding in his direction. Prime looked, then frowned.

"I saw a look like that on a television show about human babies. They were usually wetting their pants at the time," he said.

They stared at him a moment, then Prowl grinned slightly. "I wonder..."

"What?" Prime asked sliding his servo behind Prowl's hip to caress his aft on the down low.

Prowl looked down, then at Prime with a grin. "You do that very well. What were we talking about?"

Prime grinned. "Ironhide being a dumb aft."

"Ah, right," Prowl said getting a sheepish grin on his face. He looked at Optimus, shaking his helm. "I think he's having phone sex with Ratchet."

"Phone sex?" Prime asked his optics widening.

Prowl looked embarrassed and nodded. "Ratchet and I watch that show ... 'As The Kitchen Sinks' ..."

"The soap opera," Prime said having been a fan himself for some time unbeknownst to Prowl.

"Yes," Prowl said. "They have commercials and some of them are phone sex lines. Ratchet told me he was going to try it on Ironhide just to see if he would do it. Sort of a time kill during the lull between shooting sort of thing."

They both looked at Ironhide and smiled.

=0=Ratchet

Sitting on a chair in his office, he leaned back and put his peds up. :You would squeeze my aft? Is that all you got?:

:I'm a chaos bringer, Ratchet. That's only the start:

It was silent a moment.

:Yes?: Ratchet prompted.

A smirk and a leer floated over the bond link as Ironhide began to formulate a response. Then the klaxon went off and it was time to return to the world of Decepticon slagging and cold showers. :I gotta go:

:Ironhide?:

The link surged with an ocean of warmth and love. Ratchet surged back sitting up with a frown on his face. He looked down at his chest plates feeling the sparkling roaring around with joie de vivre. "Well, I'm glad someone's having a little action," he said grinning. Rising and walking toward the door and Ops Center Ratchet, Only One of the Awesomeness that was Ironhide thought about him and offered a prayer to Primus that his big fraggin' aft come back in one piece. "Slag 'em good, Ironhide," he said as he walked into the corridor and the world beyond.

The door closed silently in reply.

=0=

 

#96: Meet Up

 

 

=0=Autobot HQ, Autobot City, Mars

They walked outside, groups leaving for pre-arranged locations as Prime, Springer and Prowl watched. Turning, walking toward the gates Prime and Springer transformed, Prowl watching them go. When they had disappeared into the distance he turned to walk back to Ops Center to coordinate their defense.

=0=Thundercracker

He flew at top speed toward the heavily defended solar system that contained the solution to their predicament.

Or not.

Thundercracker had few illusions about what might take place but short of putting Starscream down there was nothing more he could do. None of the Seekers had any sway among the rank and file but Starscream. He did because he was Megatron's chosen second-in-command. He was the acknowledged heir apparent because Megatron made it so. That Megatron wasn't here didn't matter. His hold over his faction transcended death or disappearance. They still gave their allegiance to him no matter who stood at the helm of their faction. Starscream didn't have a chance if they turned on him.

Starscream had endured everything to reach the pinnacle of power and now that he had it he was slipping away in his processor, as if the achievement was the last possible blow in an endless parade of hurts. The obsession with Prime was the last stop on the route to disaster that had been building since before the Fallen had been destroyed. Megatron abused Starscream more than any other Decepticon. Granted, Starscream had provoked him, needling, pushing. He couldn't help it. Megatron was his obsession then. Prime was his obsession now.

It was as if Starscream needed something to hate, to torment and especially to torment him. Maybe the endless vorns, the endless eons of adversity with Megatron had finally caught up to him. Maybe Megatron had finally broken him at last. He wasn't here. No one knew where Megatron had gone. But he might as well be with them casting grief and fear with every glance, every sharp word, every physical blow.

Thundercracker shifted into a flight pattern that would put him past Saturn to use the gravitational well of that planet to push him toward Mars and the Autobots. No sense using more fuel than he needed to get where he was going.

It was all so sad, so lonely, so worrying. Starscream wouldn't ever get the chance to be the leader of their faction. All the sorrows, abuse, fear and loathing, all the magnificently brave taunting and pointed goading had come to nothing. All his personal bravery, his unbelievably reckless gall and dubious risk taking were for nothing. If the grounders, the others like Shockwave had any idea of how diminished he was they would kill him on the spot. Then the Seekers would be slaughtered just to make sure that they would not be an issue again.

Shockwave had no hesitation in doing what he decided must be done. They were all at risk. Starscream was at risk but he didn't even know it. They had almost no place to go but to the Autobots. And even that wasn't assured. A lot of suffering and hatred stood between the two sides, a chasm of energon and tears so vast that it might not be possible to traverse. Thundercracker had no hope as he flew but he knew he had to try.

=0=At the meeting place

Prime and Springer sat on an outcropping of rocks and looked at the sky. It was a pale orange hue due to the sand content blowing through the world on winds that came and went with the seasons. Somewhere in the well between Mars and Jupiter a lone Seeker was flying toward them. They were kept abreast of the situation by Prowl's updates.

Behind them and on all sides were squads of Autobots parked, awaiting the word to come forward. In the air making orbits around the planet were the Aerialbots flying in loose patterns, none of them more than nanokliks from the scene. All of them waited.

=0=Thundercracker

He came into the upper atmosphere of Mars, his sensors reading the location of the Prime. He felt fear and despair pulse through him, his pride lying in tatters as he slowed his descent in a cautious arc toward the Prime. He was met with two Aerialbots, weapons online, sensors locked onto him. They flew alongside Thundercracker escorting him downward, then landed, rolling to a stop to transform.

Thundercracker, his colors covered in the gray paint that the Fallen had apparently preferred from the 'good old days' turned to them looking at them without reaction. Silverbolt taking the initiative stepped forward. "Thundercracker, offline your weapons or you can't go further."

Thundercracker nodded and complied, the Aerialbots scanned to confirm the actions and together, the Aerialbots surrounding him, they walked toward Prime and Springer who sat nearby watching.

Prime watched the Seeker, a proud elite member of the Decepticons walk toward him every step heavy and weary. He looked worn and even though he tried to hold up his head he was clearly stressed and tired. His colors were missing, the blue and white that he had worn every other time he had seen Thundercracker gone. It was true then. The Fallen required them to submit even down to the color of their chassis. It was sad and it was maddening. But it was also an opportunity and he was determined to take it if there was any chance for peace.

They reached the two and stopped, Thundercracker's expression schooled to a neutrality that was admirable. Prime waited a moment, then arose stepping toward the Seeker. He paused, Springer joining him. He watched the Seeker stare at the Wrecker, his thoughts his own. "Thundercracker, you asked to speak."

The Decepticon nodded shifting on his peds. It was clearly an ordeal and Prime wasn't going to make it easy. "I am glad that you came, Prime. I know you didn't have to. But I am here in good faith."

"I'm listening."

=0=Galloway

He sat in his campaign office, a phone call from Daniels just concluded. There had been a lot of activity on the base, much of it among the Autobots alone and they couldn't get any clear answers from them about it. There were also children, alien children among them and that was disconcerting as well. They were breeding here on Earth. How they did he couldn't speculate, the mere idea of it disturbing to him.

Rising, walking to the window he looked out at the falling snow and wondered what he could do about making the information that Daniels provided to him almost daily an important part of his crusade. He was determined to make the Autobots leave the Earth. 'Earth for the Earthers' was a slogan that was coalescing around him and he considered using it for his campaign.

He would have to talk to Nast, perhaps meet him at his house in Aspen, Colorado. Getting in a little skiing, perhaps have a fundraiser and network with the moneyed elite, that would be useful. Using his time in as many ways as he could all at the same time, that was the key to making his presence rise. Turning, settling in his seat once more he began to make phone calls to the usual suspects in the media and by the time he was done he would be on every single Sunday morning news program on television.

=0=Prime and Thundercracker

"I would like to discuss the terms you require so that the Seekers might surrender to you and seek asylum."

For a moment Prime savored the words, the sensation of besting an elite force in the Decepticons filtering through his processor like a warm tide. They were formidable and Starscream was no coward. He fought hard and would think through things, figuring out what was feasible and what wasn't, leaving when it was clear that a win was not possible. He was more coherent in his thinking and actions than Megatron had ever been. That was why he had been kept around. Even though he was a schemer and a back stabber, Starscream was no one's fool.

"And Starscream? What does he think about this or does he even know?"

Thundercracker looked down, then up again, a haunted expression in his eyes. "I would like to speak with you privately." He glanced at Springer. "Your bondmate ... I would prefer that he not be included."

Prime considered the request. "Springer is here because Starscream has made him an issue and nothing more."

"This is difficult," Thundercracker said. "If you want to make a pact with us I would prefer to talk to you privately."

"I will record every word you say," Prime replied.

"I am aware but I ask you to honor my request," he replied.

Prime thought a moment, then nodded turning to glance at Springer. Springer nodded and turned walking to the rocks to sit. The Aerialbots stepped back moving away. Prime looked at them, then Thundercracker, nodding. "Very well."

"I am here because we wish to seek asylum with you. Starscream ... is not himself. Our faction is unaware of that so far but they will find out soon enough and then there will be tremendous trouble, perhaps even death," he said quietly. "Shockwave won't allow Starscream to lead the faction if he knew that he was ... incapable right now. He wouldn't hesitate to have him killed."

"You want to come to us," Prime said. "You do understand that our allies would want your helms on a platter. They have less compunction about retribution than we do."

"We have no other refuge," Thundercracker said honestly. "Starscream is not well, he's mentally ill. If you knew the life he's had all these eons with Megatron you might find it in your spark to allow a refuge for him and for us. We are prepared to give you our oath to lay down arms against you."

Prime considered that. "And Starscream ... he will go along with this?"

"It is not a matter for him to consider. We are going to take him out of the Nemesis and keep him away from Shockwave's minions. But we need a refuge. You would be getting an elite troop away from your enemy. We will honor our oath. You know we will."

"And your crimes on Earth," Prime said, "the humans won't easily forget or forgive."

"We would like to stay here," Thundercracker said. "We don't wish to ever return to Earth."

"You won't be allowed to no matter what happens here," Prime said.

"We need to know," Thundercracker said. "Shockwave is getting close to knowing what is going on. I don't know how much longer we have before he makes his move. Starscream isn't returning his messages." He paused glancing at the ground, his expression filled with pain and weariness. He looked up at Prime. "We are a trine. We are one. We cannot let Starscream have no chance to be well, to find another way. We won't go down without a fight. But we would like sanctuary. We give you our oath that we will not lift arms against you."

Prime looked at the Seeker, his memories of them coming one by one. He remember seeing them flying in the air over Iacon for the love of it, for the joy. They were proud, ancient and elite. Now they were lost, hopeless and endangered. How much do we want to lose of ourselves he thought? How much must disappear because of Megatron? He looked at Thundercracker. "These are my terms for you to turn yourself into us here. If you fail anyone of them you will be turned away and face Shockwave. Do you agree?"

Thundercracker nodded his face falling as his tension ebbed. "Yes, on my honor," he said.

Then Prime explained to him what he would need for them to find refuge on Mars.

=0=Starscream

He sat staring at the heavens, at the stars above. They were so far away and he was here trapped on the ground. The sky called to him and he wanted to go but he was confused. He was weary and uncertain. Prime was some place. The Autobots were some place. He was here trapped on the ground, trapped in his own uncertainty and pain.

He was alone.

Sitting nearby his face filled with his own suffering Skywarp watched over Starscrean as he waited for Thundercracker to come back. He was sure he would. The Autobots wouldn't break a flag of truce. They would let him come back and then they would know what to do. He thought about being free, of flying in a sky without danger, without hunger being his companion, of the freedom of being just another Seeker with his trine. He thought about the good days, the ones before the war when the three of them were just Cybertronians and not the leading edge of Megatron's sword.

He shook his head as Dirge, Ramjet and Thrust came to sit with him. Behind him in the control room the comm system alerted. The flashing light was coming from Shockwave. He wanted to know what was happening. The night crew was let off, the grounders walking away sullenly, suspiciously. It would be all or nothing now Skywarp thought. Either Prime would live up to his image and allow them refuge.

Or by morning the lot of them would be dead.

The moon traversed the sky above as they sat below, lords of the sky trapped on the ground. They sat together waiting for Thundercracker and watched Starscream disappear into the sorrows of his memories, lost, alone, despairing.

=0=TBC

 

#97: The Seekers

 

 

=0=Thundercracker

He stood with Prime absorbing the rules for surrender and the obligations they would have doing so. For a moment, all the past descended upon him weighing him down with a terrible crushing burden. The endless war, the endless fighting, the endless hardships...

He had not ever been clearly a Decepticon. He had always struggled to belong, his doubts always with him. His trine was his loyalty, his trine and his kind. Staring at Prime seeking in his expression the back stab, the tel that would allow him to know that he would be on treacherous ground ... he saw none of it. He saw resolution, determination, leadership. He saw character, honesty, dignity and maybe even the shadow of pity. That was a pang in his spark, pity. They were an ancient proud race, Seekers. They were the lords of the heavens and pity was not a word that Thundercracker would believe applied to them. But now it did most likely so he offered his servo gratefully reaching out to the only lifeline they had.

Prime watched him work through the grief, the loss of pride, the hopefulness that he, Prime was going to keep his end of the bargain. They must be in terrible disarray to come to him like this. Starscream must be in dire shape. He reached out and grasped Thundercracker's wrist, a charge of energy between them sealing the deal. They would not break their word. They would come here and stay without trouble. The Seeker Oath had been given and in his memory, even in the war he could not find a time when a Seeker had broken their word.

Thundercracker nodded and turned moving swiftly and transforming. Prime watched him admiring the beauty of their form and movement as Thundercracker roared into the sky. He swept up until he was a mere dot flying straight up into a stall, then he descended, a graceful and beautiful barrel roll bringing him around and he arced down slipping through the air over Prime's head before racing into the night of space and his trine beyond the well of the solar system.

Prime watched the salute, the graceful passage of his fellow Cybertronian and felt at peace with the decision to save them. Megatron had murdered their world. He was not going to allow him to murder the Seekers too. That ancient tribe would find shelter here. And they would keep their word. This he knew in his spark. Turning, he transformed and called his mechs to follow. And they did.

=0=Skywarp

He got the call from Thundercracker from far away reaching him over their bond. Rising, he turned and whispered to the others reaching agreement. Dirge, Thrust and Ramjet walked away talking together as they faded into the dusty darkness beyond the Nemesis. Anyone who would be watching and they would be would think they were taking a walk together. When they disappeared Skywarp turned and walked to where Starscream sat huddled and fearfully watching the sky overhead.

Skywarp sat putting his arm around the suffering Seeker and leaned into him praying that he could comprehend that they needed to go and that he needed to trust what he was asked to do. They sat together, Skywarp sending to him all the emotion he could find to spare ... warmth, protection, appreciation. Then he stirred between them memories of skies traversed, of the warmth of the sun as they perched on high peaks, the wind flowing smoothly over their wings as they played together, flying and falling, dropping and climbing in the skies that were their domain.

There were no bars in the sky, no holds on your spark, no limits to the joy that was there. Skywarp sent that to Starscream and the broken mech heard him after a while. He began to warm remembering his own beautiful moments, his own beauty and as he did Skywarp began to tug him to his peds. "Come, Starscream. I want to fly," he said.

Starscream standing unsteadily, his optics looking upward with a terrible longing nodded. "So do I."

"Come with me," Skywarp said turning to him with a desperate expression on his face. "Do you trust me?"

Starscream looked at him for a long time, his exhaustion so evident that Skywarp felt something tear inside him. "I want to fly."

"Then come with me," Skywarp said. "Come and we'll fly away."

Starscream hesitated looking around as if he had forgotten something. Something was here that he had to do but he couldn't remember it. Then he turned to Skywarp staring at his sorrow, his weariness. He paused and then nodded letting him take his arm and lead him to where the others had gone. They disappeared into the darkness and it was silent.

In the doorway of the ship three Decepticons watched, then they turned and went inside. Shockwave would know now and there would be no way home again, no mercy, no amnesty. For now on the Seekers were anathema. They would be first on the kill list, even ahead of Prime.

=0=Flying

They flew together, Starscream in the middle. Half of them flew with sensors forward, the other half behind. They went as fast as they could go and wished for more speed. It would not happen. Starscream began to deteriorate. He was erratic in his flight, his speed slowing and increasing. His commentary on their bond was incoherent. By the time they reached the solar well he was erratic enough to force a landing.

Skywarp sat on the ground Starscream half in his lap, his keening so piercingly sad that the others paced with agitation. "He can't continue. Go to Prime. Tell him we need transport. Hurry."

Thundercracker nodded and turned blazing away as fast as he could manage. The others knelt sick at heart. All they could do now was wait.

=0=Prime

He heard the call and answered it. He turned to Ironhide, Ratchet, whom he recalled after the first meeting and Kup. Turning, they walked to the door transforming and rolling to the airfield. Cosmos took them away and as Springer stood in the Ops Center he wondered about the idea of having six Seekers living on their world. He would have to be very careful. Very, very careful.

=0=Oort Field

They arrived landing on the asteroid, the Seekers nearby watching warily. Prime stepped out followed by Ironhide, Ratchet and Kup. They paused, each taking in the other and then Ratchet stepped past them walking to Starscream and kneeling.

Starscream looked exhausted, worn to such a degree that it was critical to move him fast. He was incoherent, a soft keening sound emanating from him. Ratchet scanned him and arose turning to Prime. "We have to get him to Medbay. He's in critical condition and in imminent danger."

Skywarp looked at Prime with a terrible expression of fear and desperation and Thundercracker bent down tenderly lifting Starscream into his arms. Turning, pausing, the others moving to stand with him Thundercracker waited.

Prime sickened by the tragedy of their plight, by the awful waste and desolation of the war nodded, moving aside as Thundercracker carried Starscream to the shuttle. He placed him inside and climbed down allowing Ratchet to move inside with the fading Seeker. They moved back listening as Prime outlined re-entry to Autobot City and then he and Ironhide entered the shuttle, the door closing.

Cosmos rose up followed by the five Seekers and for the first time in the eons since the war, since the devastation of their world and their people a Prime was escorted to his capital by a Seeker flight.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They landed at the air field, a heavy guard awaiting them and they waited as Starscream was off loaded by Thundercracker who stood emotionlessly waiting for directions. Ratchet heading toward the gate nodded to him and they began the walk back to the city as the others transformed. Ironhide weapons online walked behind Thundercracker who was following Ratchet. When they reached the city almost everyone including the refugees had gathered to watch.

Thundercracker, his spark crushed with the burdens of their sorrow and the humiliation of their state walked between the silent Cybertronians lining both sides of the street that led to the fortress. He held his head up, his wings up and his facade almost made him believe himself. They entered, armed guards all around him and walked to Medbay where he tenderly lay Starscream on a berth. The Seeker was unconscious and Thundercracker stepped back allowing Ratchet access.

Ratchet was all business going through a diagnostic and when he concluded he turned and looked at Thundercracker as well as Prowl and Prime who had joined them. "He's nearly dead," Ratchet said. "How long has it been since he's energized like he's supposed to?"

Thundercracker shrugged. "We have dealt with deprivation. It is the way it is."

"That is a large part of his condition. He is missing a number of essential nutrients, he's malnurished and he's injured. How did he get so many injuries to his helm?" Ratchet asked fearing and knowing the answer already. "His processor is degraded and there is deep circuit damage."

Thundercracker's expression of hatred was only fleeting. "Megatron," he whispered softly. "He would take it out on Starscream when he failed. Always Starscream. He would beat him until he couldn't move. We don't have medics. We did the best we could."

Ratchet nodded. "You all need to leave. I have a lot of repair to do."

"Will he be well?" Thundercracker asked his voice filled with desolation.

"I will try," Ratchet said looking at Thundercracker with a critical eye. "You all need help. I will start with Starscream first and then the rest of you next."

Thundercracker nodded reluctantly turning and leaving with Ironhide. It was silent a moment and then Prime and Prowl stepped closer looking down at their nemesis with a mixture of sorrow and regret. "How could it come to this?" Prime asked as Prowl slipped his servo into the big mech's own. "How did we come to this? How could our people end up in this condition?"

Ratchet shook his head. "I will try and save him but I don't know ... he's had a lot of hardship. What his mental condition will be if he lives I don't know. But I will try."

Prime nodded. "I know, Ratchet."

He turned, Prowl walking with him and Ratchet was alone with Starscream and two guards. Shaking his head sadly he turned and began to work.

=0=The Seekers

They sat on a bench, some standing next to those sitting as they waited their fate. Thundercracker had not told them the details but they had followed anyway. They were brothers, they were Seekers, they would stay together and face the fate they would meet as one. Some of them were clearly frightened and some were just too weary to care. They looked up at Prime as he walked toward them, Thundercracker at his side. He paused as he reached them his optics taking in their condition. "I want you to follow Ironhide. He will take you to the washracks and then you can energize. After that you will be shown your quarters. You are confined to it until further notice. I will be posting guards but I am trusting that they won't be necessary for too long. Thundercracker gave your oath. Do you give it too?"

They looked at him waiting for the give away and it didn't come. Skywarp rising uncertainly extended his arm. Prime grasped it, the electric surge sealing his agreement. The others, looking at him with wariness or disbelief arose and offered their arms too. One by one they agreed and it was sealed. Then they turned and followed Ironhide.

Prime and Prowl watched them go silently.

=0=A short time later

A colorful clutch of Seekers walked to their quarters, a spacious outbuilding that had been constructed once Thundercracker had left to return from his first visit. It was tall enough and big enough for them, clear aluminum across the top for the roof allowed them a view of the sky. Inside there were berths to sleep on, berths designed for Seekers. They walked inside and looked around with disbelief.

Somewhere Starscream was getting help. Here they were safe, energized fully for the first time in vorns, clean, colorful and safe. Somewhere Shockwave had the truth and he would be hunting them. But here they were safe and no one could touch them. For the first time in eons they were safe.

It was almost more than they could bear.

=0=

 

#98: Seekers Part Two

 

=0=Autobot City, Mars Ops Center

They sat together waiting for an update from Ratchet. Prime was silent for a while, then called the members of his alpha team together in the center of the great room. "This puts our plans to catch Starscream into the recyle bin."

Prowl nodded. "We do have all the evidence of collusion by Nast and the others. We can take down Intel-Martin."

Prime thought a moment. "What if someone else picks up the ball? What if ... I suppose we're looking at Shockwave now ... what if he picks up Starscream's network?"

"Would he even know?" Springer asked.

"I would imagine he will sift the Nemesis to find every single morsel he can," Prime said shifting in his chair. "I need to speak to Thundercracker."

"That assumes that Starscream even mentioned what he was up to," Prowl posed.

"He might have or not," Prime agreed. "But we won't know until we talk to him and it will be a point of convergence for him. Their security depends upon ours."

Springer nodded. "Want me to get him?"

Prime nodded. "It might be time to impress him," he said. "I think when he was landing here, seeing how we've dug in and expanded that he was."

"Agreed," Prowl said nodding.

Springer arose walking out of the command deck heading to the doors and the Seeker quarters beyond. Prowl watched him go. "Are you going to tell him about Springer?"

Prime looked at Prowl and smiled. "I think it would be merciful don't you?"

Prowl smiled and nodded, his gaze returning to the door again.

=0=Seeker Quarters

He walked toward them, Dirge and Thrust sitting on a bench outside absorbing solar energy into their secondary power systems. Rising, wary, they watched as 'Prime's bond' came toward them pausing at the door. "I need to get Thundercracker. Prime wants to speak with him."

The two exchanged a wary look, then Thrust turned going inside. Thundercracker came out and looked at Springer. "I wasn't aware that we were going to be interrogated."

"Prime wants to ask you about a couple of things. Don't expect boiling oil or red hot pokers. He's the Prime."

Thundercracker nodded and glanced at the others who were watching with fearful wary expressions. "I'll be back. I will try and find out about Starscream." He looked at Springer. "We can find out can we not?"

Springer shrugged. "We probably can. It depends on how Ratchet is doing."

Thundercracker nodded and moved forward walking alongside Springer back into the building. Thrust and Dirge stood together. "I don't like it. They want to know things."

Skywarp stepping out to watch as well shrugged. "He's right. This is the Prime, the weak-sparked Autobot. He will keep his word. No more suffering."

"Do you really think so?" Dirge asked glancing at him.

"I believe in the Prime. He will keep his word," Skywarp said with conviction.

They stood together and watched the doors waiting for Thundercracker to come back.

=0=Inside

They walked together down the corridor, the walls constructed like a fortress on Cybertron. Some of the refugees were artisans and there were metallic pieces of art on the walls lyrical in design, all of them meaningful to Cybertronians. He looked at it, the building itself and the people they met, all of them stepping away, some fearfully.

Before, it would have been amusing. Now it was painful. They were all from the same planet, shared the same culture and history. Yet now he was hated. He was the enemy, the source of all their suffering and it bothered him. It had a few times before as he struggled with his allegiances. The trine had won out and he followed Starscream and Skywarp into the Pit. Now he was the one who had to be strong and lead. He had to save them so he went to the Prime ready to do what he could for all of them.

Entering the command deck he scanned it and all the Autobots that were there. He recognized a few and knew he would know the rest if their designations were spoken. It was a small world the one they lived in and even across the span of the universe they still were able to know about and of each other.

The Prime sat in a chair in the middle of the room, a table filled with objects, datapads and other items that aided their effort next to him as he leaned an elbow upon it regarding him. He stared at Thundercracker as he walked up and paused waiting. He didn't see the battlemask in place and thought it was the first time he had ever seen Prime's face. It was handsome and wise. It was confident and other things that Thundercracker has little experience with.

Merciful.

Compassionate.

Even kindly.

He stood waiting.

Prime watched him come admiring the familiar paint that signaled who he was. The Fallen had erased that from him. He had erased it from Starscream. That was a very bad thing he knew. They wore their colors proudly, the arrays designating their clans, their status, their pride and accomplishments. Seekers were a special group among his kind, their lore and mores extremely important, defining them to the outside world. Getting their colors back was a significant step in his attempt to gain their trust and ensure that they would not be a problem.

"You wished to see me, Prime," Thundercracker said finally breaking the silence.

"I do," Prime said rising. He stood in a motion of respect, something that was an important physical statement among Seekers. You were invited to sit, to be level and equal. Before that if you were going to speak peacefully to another Seeker about matters of importance you stood up, faced each other and made the salutations. "I wish to speak to you about what Shockwave might want to do about this. I think you will find that our security guarentees yours. So I invite you to sit, talk openly and fully."

Thundercracker relaxed slightly, the effort that Prime was giving to him shocking. He was making the salutations. He didn't have to but he did and he invited Thundercracker to sit. No one had done that in so long he had almost no memories of it. No one that was a grounder he considered. "Thank you," he said simply.

A chair was brought to him and Thundercracker waited until Prime started to sit before sitting, the lower status Seeker allowing the higher status individual that courtesy. "You know our customs."

"I am Prime."

Thundercracker nodded. "I would hope before I leave that word about Starscream would be available. He is part of our trine and we are all very, very worried."

Prime nodded. "We will check with Ratchet."

Thundercracker nodded and he continued the formal exchange. "We thank you for your hospitality and that of your House. It is gratefully received and should the opportunity arise it will be reciprocated."

Prime nodded. "It will be happily accepted," he said closing the formal salutations. He leaned forward frowning slightly. "What did Starscream tell you about a number of humans that he was cooresponding with on Earth?"

Thundercracker thought back. "We know he was. He was seeking information and they were seeking weapons. It was to be a mutual exchange. He also was building obligations among the humans, those in power and the media. He wanted to install puppets and undermine your allegiances with the humans from within."

"And with Starscream gone we can assume that Shockwave will take it all in, perhaps continue it," Prime posed.

Thundercracker nodded. "It would be safe to assume that. I would in his place."

Prime nodded and sat back. "We would like to know about the size of the enemy we face and any longterm plans that you are aware of. It would be in your best interests. If we fall so do you."

Thundercracker nodded exhaling through his vents softly. "I know," he said quietly. "The Nemesis has thirty-seven mechs, most of them flight capable and some symbiotic. There are seven of them active on the Earth now. They are loyal to Megatron and Shockwave is too. There isn't enough energon to have them all active. Our supply lines were disrupted by unrest in the empire. Shockwave is dealing with that. It will occupy him for a while but he will pick up where Starscream left off. I believe that to be true."

Prime nodded. "I will wish to speak with you more later. I hope you feel that you can do that without fear or holding back. What happens to us happens to you and if you want to truly be safe and free you have to choose your sides now."

"We are aware of that. Most of us have suffered a lot, some of us are wary and having trouble believing that you are not going to harm us in the end. We have seen a lot, lived through a lot. We want to believe."

Prime nodded. "You can." It was silent a moment then Prime leaned forward. "I have a story to tell you, one that will explain a lot of things."

Thundercracker leaned forward and listened his processor filling with dismay. When Prime was finished he turned and took Prowl's servo. "This is my bondmate, Thundercracker. My real bondmate."

Thundercracker sat for a moment, then leaned forward resting his helm in his servos, his wings drooping until they nearly touched the floor. Prime looked at him and felt no joy. He thought he would telling the story, letting them in on the joke but he didn't. All he felt was tired.

=0=Medbay

Ironhide watched as Thundercracker walked to the medberth where Starscream lay. The shell of his helm was removed and the inner workings of Starscream's processor were open to see. Parts of it were missing and pieces of broken circuitry, even charred bits were laying in a tray beside the berth. Ratchet came from around the corner and paused as he watched Thundercracker lean over the prone subcommander, a look of deep suffering on his face. He glanced at Ironhide who gazed back shaking his head slightly. Then Ratchet came forward pausing at the tray, moving it out of Thundercracker's sight.

"How is he, Doctor?" Thundercracker asked softly his servo hovering over Starscream's helm as he hesitated to touch the injured cranium.

"There is a lot of damage. A lot of it is very old and accumulated. I am replacing circuits as I find them. I am shunting programming through the areas that can't be repaired. I would like to know when his last injury occurred and what it was."

Thundercracker thought back, the terrible moment another dark shadow on his spark. They had returned to the Nemesis, the Fallen a pile of slag in the sand of the insect world. He had been injured and demanded repair. As he did Megatron had begun to calculate offense, assign guilt and design punishment.

He always did. Nothing was ever his fault. Starscream was always his punching bag. He knew the others would be less enticing targets. Megatron knew that he and his fellow Seekers would bow and be obsequious so he and the others were never any challenge either for or to him. But Starscream … he always was. Sometimes the Seeker would say the right things in the right way but mostly he didn't. Then he would be the one to suffer.

Megatron had assigned blame to Starscream for the death of the Fallen. He had gone from the medic station to Starscream. He found him on the command deck and lit into him like a laser guided missile. It was vicious, direct, unmerciful and long lasting. He had beaten Starscream with his fists, he had kicked him with his peds and even when Starscream was lying on the deck in his own energon off lined and defenseless he had continued.

No one had intervened. Not the trine. Not the grounders. No one.

Thundercracker and the others had gone outside and covered their audials groaning with fear and hatred, pacing and waiting for Megatron to expend his emotional tirade. When they went back in and pulled Starscream away he had taken nearly five stellar cycles to come back to himself. When he did he was changed. Now Thundercracker could see why. "Megatron. He blamed Starscream for the death of the Fallen."

"That's insane," Ratchet said turning, glancing at Thundercracker with surprise. "How was it his fault?"

"It didn't matter," Thundercracker said. "Starscream never gave in, he never bowed. He was brave that way."

"Or stupid," Ratchet said looking at the sadness on Thundercracker's face.

"Brave," Thundercracker said looking at Ratchet with a degree of defiance. "Starscream is brave. He was brave."

Ratchet glanced at Ironhide, then turned looking at the monitors. "I have work to do."

"How is he?" The voice was soft and plaintive.

"I think he will live but I can't guarentee what he will be like when he comes to himself again," Ratchet said his voice soft and kindly.

Thundercracker nodded and paused as he turned. "Thank you, Doctor, for helping him."

Ratchet nodded and watched as Thundercracker walked out followed by a silent Ironhide. He turned and looked at Starscream. "I never thought I would see the day I would feel badly for you, Starscream, you fraggin' slagger. You better live through this slag. There are mechs that actually need you it appears." Then he turned and got back to work again.

=0=

2010 (12)

NOTE: I have received awesome feedback and a couple mention the length of time. It seems fast. In the movie in my head, it doesn't but a reread shows it on paper to be so. Here are some referential times based on what I perceive to be their technological advancement: 45 min to Mars from Earth one way, four hours to the edge of the solar system in the Oort Field one way. Going to the Nemesis is longer and less clear to me so I will watch Return of the Fallen again and try to gauge Megatron. Also, the Aerialbots are huge according to their alt forms in the book, Complete Transformers: Ark which has all the original drawings and alt forms. Silverbolt as a concorde would be 204' long, 37' high and 88+' wide. That is not counting the fighters which tend to be about 62' long, 44' wide and 16' high. ALL HAIL THE GOOGLE! Thank you so very, very much for catching boo-boos and giving me insight into how this baby reads. You are all so very much welcome here. -Me, getting out an eraser as we speak. ;)

=0=

#99: Vigil

 

=0=Medbay

Ironhide entered nodding to the guards and walked to Ratchet who was bent over Starscream attaching more energon lines into this depleted systems. He waited, watching Ratchet's servos moving here and there plugging in this and unplugging that, his optics reading the print outs that looked like gibberish to Ironhide.

Unreadable, unpronounceable, incomprehensible.

Ratchet turned and paused smiling tiredly. He took the energon cube from Ironhide and the two walked to the office next to intensive care sitting on the couch in the corner. Ratchet leaned into Ironhide, the big mech slipping his arm around Ratchet's shoulders. "You look worn out."

"It's a lot of handwork doing these kind of repairs. There were a lot of loose bits floating around in there," Ratchet said sipping his energon. "It took a lot of time and patience but we got them all out."

"You did good," Ironhide said quietly. "I can't believe that I have any kind of sympathy for Starscream. I just do. A little."

Ratchet nodded. "Thundercracker and the others, they made him personal."

"They did. I will still slag him into the Pit if he ever crosses the line. But I feel some sort of sadness about him. Who could have guessed?"

Ratchet nodded shifting to a more comfortable position. "I guess Megatron is such a fraggin' monster that he can make even Starscream sympathetic."

"Give me a few hours. I'll get over it."

Ratchet grinned nodding. "Wait until he talks again."

Ironhide snorted. "His voice is a good enough reason to frag him alone."

Ratchet chuckled. "I wonder where Megatron went?"

"I don't know. But I'm sure he'll make sure we know soon enough," Ironhide said leaning his cheek plates against Ratchet's helm. "How do you feel? How's the sparkling?"

"Tired. The sparkling is quiet right now. He was going to the races this morning."

"It isn't long now," Ironhide said squeezing Ratchet's shoulders. "Soon enough, you will be here."

"I will," Ratchet said. "I want the sparkling to be separated here, Ironhide. I want this."

"I know," Ironhide said.

A machine beeped and died down, Ratchet rising to walk out. He looked at it and then Starscream, Ironhide coming to stand by his side. "He's got some functionality in his cognitive abilities. I was afraid he would be unable to think. Maybe he can."

"His memories and the like? What about that?" Ironhide asked his servo gently rubbing Ratchet's back plates.

"Hard to say, Ironhide," Ratchet said. "He's functional at a sparkling level at the moment. I am hoping between the replacement parts and his self repair routines he will be able to find his way back. Right now? He can't fly."

Ironhide glanced at Ratchet and then Starscream. "That's the kiss of death for a Seeker."

Ratchet nodded, his expression as weary as his diagnosis.

=0=Autobot HQ, Earth

Bluestreak sat at Teletraan II on a night shift. The idea of Seekers on Mars had been a huge surprise and even though they had given their oath a lot of the Autobots were unconvinced that they were going to be safe. Now they had civilians, sparklings and younglings to protect. The garrison had a home and a potential refuge from running, chasing and being shot at by an implacable enemy. The idea that the Seekers had to turn themselves in due to injury and debilitation was only small comfort. Few of them had not had an encounter with Starscream and his Seekers.

Prime was expected back in the morning, a meeting schedule that couldn't be reshuffled taking precedence over spending more time on Mars. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe wouldn't be on the shuttle and they had already talked about it. Sunstreaker was sick of being stranded on Mars and the only good thing about it this time was Sideswipe pulling the same duty.

In less than two decaorns they would go to Autobot City and be the first to bond there. Ordinarily the ceremony was elective. But because he was Praxian and Prowl wanted to keep with their traditions they would have a public ceremony on the steps of the fortress. The party afterward would be a brilliant event. Everyone around him had taken it upon themselves to plan it. Everyone who could come would be there.

Two decaorns and their trine would be legalized and permanent. Until death did you part as the humans said. In his case death didn't usually part a bonded pair. Funny, those humans. They could survive each other. Good trick he considered as he listened to the universe for anything out of the ordinary. He didn't hear it.

=0=Far away

They came together at the landing on the ocean's edge slowly filing into their shuttle to continue. Their journey had been harrowing, fleeing war in their colony and trying to find shelter in any port they could. But every place was just temporary, a respite for a short time and then they were on their way again. Their shuttle filled and rose through the atmosphere another foreign shore left behind in their quest for peace and freedom. As they journeyed toward any place and no place they heard it. A call was captured, one that was made from a place far away in a language they understood.

Their language.

Cybertronian.

Their Prime.

He was calling them.

'Come to me' he said and they did. They plotted a course and turned their shuttle placing their faith in the hope that they could reach his protection and the Autobots he would command. The shuttle flashed onward, the twenty-seven civilians and five Autobot soldiers inside settling in for the journey with the first glimmer of hope they had felt in many vorns of running.

Their Prime was waiting for them.

They would come.

=0=Medbay

Ironhide walked into the bay relieving the soldiers for the night. Ratchet was in the office recharging with his helm on his arms. Ironhide paused looking at his Only One with concern. Moving inside he leaned down and kissed Ratchet's helm watching as he stirred and looked around himself groggily. Looking up he smiled, leaning back, stretching his body. "Ironhide."

"Ratchet. Go and lie down on a medberth," the big mech said. "Don't go recharging at yer desk. You'll get a krick."

Ratchet looked at Ironhide. "Krick?"

"Krick," Ironhide said tugging at Ratchet's servo, pulling him to his peds.

Ratchet moved forward slipping his arms around Ironhide's neck. "Krick."

"Krick."

"Sounds sexy."

"Krick?" Ironhide asked grinning. "How does that sound sexy?"

"Just does," Ratchet said leaning against Ironhide limply.

They swayed together a moment.

"You find **that** sexy and **Arbutus** you make fun of," Ironhide said hugging Ratchet as his arms went limp at his side in gathering fatigue.

"It deserves mockery," Ratchet said grinning.

"You need to go to rest," Ironhide said. "That sparkling needs its rest too."

"I need to watch over Starscream."

"How's he doin'?"

"So far so good. His self repair systems are making some headway on the lesser programming. I just don't know about his memories and his ability to think logically."

"Sounds like we might have a Seeker who has no idea of who he is and can't tell you about it," Ironhide said turning Ratchet toward the small room in the back with berths for doctors on call or passing through. Pushing Ratchet onto one and lifting his peds up Ironhide leaned down and kissed the medico. "Recharge. I will call you."

"I will let you," Ratchet said relaxing, falling into recharge almost immediately.

Ironhide smiled and turned walking out to the main bay pausing beside Starscream. He was a hideous sight. There were a good dozen cables plugged into his processor which was still exposed. Energon lines ran into several major lines and machines beeped quietly as screens charted his progress.

He looked at the figure of the Seeker, at the beautiful array of colors now clear on his chassis, the crimson especially vibrant. It had taken Ratchet a long time to removed the grime and Ironhide wondered why he had. Maybe he did it to pass the time waiting. Maybe not. But it was a huge improvement over the dull gray that had been forced on them by the Fallen.

Turning away, walking to another berth, Ironhide hoist himself up and sat waiting for the night to pass and the morning to come. Ratchet had said they would have a clearer idea in the morning. He hoped so. Oddly enough.

=0=The Seekers

They stood outside the new barracks watching the sky and the stars overhead. It was their new sky, their new home and for the first time since they came to the Autobots they felt safe and relaxed. Thundercracker sat on the bench in front of the barracks leaning back against the wall. Skywarp joined him looking at the gun turrets that were dark forms against the muted light of the fortress.

"I wonder what will happen?" he asked.

"He will either survive or he won't. His spark is muted," Thundercracker said quietly.

"But its still there," Skywarp replied.

"We can't know what he will be like if he survives," Thundercracker said.

"No," Skywarp replied.

"We would be dead if we had stayed."

"I couldn't stay one more orn," Skywarp replied. "Even when he was gone Megatron was still there."

They were silent for a moment. Then Thundercracker looked at Skywarp. "Don't mention Megatron for any reason," he said quietly.

Skywarp nodded. "Agreed."

They sat and looked at the sky watching the two moons of Mars traverse the darkness. Somewhere in the universe Megatron still lived and as long as that were true none of them were safe.

=0=

 

#100: "Don't move."

 

=0=Medbay

"Don't move."

Ratchet stood beside the berth where Starscream lay. He had just replaced his helm plates, the plugs and wires retracted and gone. The Seeker was swimming toward sentience once more, a slow reboot of his systems beginning. Ratchet turned to Springer who he had called when Starscream began to reboot on his own. "Get his trine. Quickly."

Springer nodded and turned, moving quickly to the barracks that was their new home. Ratchet holding Starscream down with a servo placed against his chest considered his options. He could have intercepted the reboot and disallowed it. It could have had dire consequences for future reboots or even have caused loss of data. Or he could allow it to see what happened. He had done all he could do and now it was show time.

Ironhide came through the door and walked to the berth moving Ratchet aside. He placed his own big servo on the Seeker holding him in place more firmly. "He's coming around?"

"He's trying," Ratchet said moving to watch his progress with an anxious expression. Behind them footsteps were heard, then Skywarp and Thundercracker walked in followed by Springer who moved to one side to stand and watch the group with a professional optic.

The Seekers came forward pausing behind the two looking at Starscream with fear on their faceplates. Ratchet turned and gripped Thundercracker's arm. "He's going to come out of this one of two ways. He'll either remember the last thing that happened to him or he won't remember much. It could be that it will take time and defragging to make sense of the mess in his head. Or it might not. I would tell you better things if I knew them, Thundercracker. I wish I could."

Thundercracker nodded glancing at Ratchet with a wretched expression. Skywarp walked closer, his optics never leaving Starscream. "Can we hold him down?" he asked quietly.

Ratchet looked at him and nodded glancing at Ironhide who was watching them both closely. Skywarp stepped up taking Ironhide's place and Thundercracker moved to the head of the berth taking Starscream's helm in his servos. Starscream struggling toward sentience didn't know they were there. He didn't hear or feel them. He flew through the darkness in his processor struggling to make his way upward where he instinctively knew that light and freedom lay.

=0=Autobot HQ, Earth

Prowl got the message that Starscream was coming around and he pinged Prime who was in a meeting at the N.E.S.T. HQ. He pinged back receipt and continued the meeting including the three that followed. By the time he reached Ops Center the picture on Starscream would be more complete.

=0=Nast Home, Houston, Texas

Lydia Nast, thirty-eight, blonde, slim and socially connected paced the living room of their 26 room mansion in the tony Riverbend area. She had sent the children to school and was waiting for her husband to call her. She was used to him being gone and out of contact for periods of time. That was the business he was in. But this felt off. This felt wrong. Turning, she walked to the phone and called the office getting his private secretary. "Jeannie, have you heard from Bill?"

"Just the e-mail he sends when he's out of contact," she replied. "It all seems in order."

"What about Tom?" she asked.

"He's also sending the proper response e-mails, Lydia. Nothing is out of order."

She thought a moment, then made up her mind. This felt wrong and she would pursue it. "Get me Cole," she said.

"Please hold," Jeannie said as she re-routed the phone to the office of Cole Steward, COO of Intel-Martin and the next in line to step in if things went south.

To Jeannie Nast, things had just gone south.

=0=Medbay

Starscream onlined his optics and stared at the ceiling, or at least the area above himself without blinking. Light overwhelmed him and he shuttered his optics for a moment allowing them to dial down the proper reception. Opening them again he saw color, blue and white and purple and black, two shapes looming over him closely.

He struggled, falling back weakly and stared, his vocal processor struggling to online. His mind was slow, his processes sluggish and he felt panic settling into his circuits, the sparkling electrical charge of panic. Then a voice whispered to him, another joining and the sound of it, the softness of it soothed him. He relaxed and looked at the shapes which were slowly firming up, becoming mechs.

"He's confused," Skywarp said anxiously. "I don't know that he knows who we are."

"Give him a few," Ratchet said moving forward, transforming his digits into diagnostic tools. He gently shouldered Skywarp aside and began to put softly spoken requests forward for Starscream to respond to and answer. The Seeker struggled, meeting some and not others before Ratchet stepped back and paused, thinking as he glanced at the screens above which were showing his reboot and all the damage he still had.

"Well?" Skywarp asked fear and exasperation in his tone.

Ratchet glanced at him. "There are a lot of blank spots in the readouts. Some of his systems are not coming online. The diagnostic tells me that his internal repair systems are working on them and as long as they are working he has a chance to reclaim them. They will stop when its clear that nothing can be done but for now they are still working. As for his mental capacity, I would have to test it. For now, we just have to see what presents."

"Can we take him with us?" Thundercracker asked. "He might do well in our company."

"It depends on how this reboot finishes," Ratchet said. "I will release him to you with caveats if he appears to be able to have basic functions and his energy and functionality are level."

Thundercracker nodded and looked down watching as Starscream began to relax and look around. "Starscream, can you understand me?"

The Seeker looked up at Thundercracker hearing his voice and finding in it something familiar and his. "I know you," he said, his familiar raspy voice even more so. "I know you."

"You do," Thundercracker replied sadly. "You will be all right. We are here and we will take care of you."

Starscream looked at him and nodded, his optics looking around at all the rest of the unfamiliar mechs surrounding him. At least he had the familiar voice above him. At least he had that much.

=0=Joors later

Starscream sat on the berth, his head hanging as he waited for his equilibrium to settle. He had come to sentience with a lot of damage but he knew where he was, who he was with and was wary. They were with the Autobots and he didn't know how. But Thundercracker and Skywarp appeared to be relaxed and comfortable so he decided to be the same. When they were away they would talk. Until then he would do what was asked without comment.

"I can release him to you to take care of but it will be with these monitors," Ratchet said turning to look at Starscream. "Starscream, I'm going to put these medical monitors on you so that if you need attention, if something hurts, bothers or fails we can come to help you. Here," he said handing them to Starscream. "Look them over and tell me if you understand that they are just medical diagnostic tools and nothing more."

Starscream took them looking at them with a critical optic. Thundercracker took them too looking at them more for Starscream's benefit than because he felt that there was anything to worry about. Handing them to Ratchet, the medic waited. Starscream nodded and they were attached. One went on his neck plugged into the medical port at the base and one went inside his chassis plugged into an energy node that was critical to the lower half of his body.

"Do you understand what you have to do? Are there questions?" Ratchet asked gently, looking from Starscream to the two other Seekers and back again.

"No," Skywarp said quietly, moving to one side of Starscream.

"I want you to know that if you can't do this that he needs to come back here. If this isn't done right and to the degree it needs to be then he won't recover fully. I hope you understand that not trusting us on this will be costly for him," Ratchet said, his focus on Thundercracker.

"We understand. Thank you, Doctor," Thundercracker said taking one of Starscream's arms.

He stood up swaying for a moment, then with helm held high, Starscream began to walk on his own, his trine mates standing on either side anxiously hovering as he walked to the door. He reached it and paused turning around and affixing Ratchet with a intense gaze. He nodded slightly and turned walking out with Springer in tow.

They stood together, their thoughts their own then Ratchet turned to lean against the berth. "This is going to be strange."

Ironhide nodded. "You're going back now right? First Aid can manage this stuff now. You can go home and rest, right?"

"I think so," Ratchet said turning to gather up the instruments he had used, putting them on a tray nearby. "I will brief him, then he can come to manage the after care. I think it will be a good thing for him, managing a tough customer on his own."

"You don't need the aggravation," Ironhide said agreeing. "You need to think about the sparkling and not Seekers."

"First Aid can rebuild and repair the other Seekers too," Ratchet said. "Good experience."

Ironhide nodded and turned to help, the two returning Medbay to its normal condition. First Aid arriving at Autobot City two joors later was briefed about the Seekers and their condition. It was nearly midnight on Mars when they left flying on Skydive as some of the Aerialbots returned and some stayed behind. Megatron was out there and without proof of his complete demise they had to make themselves as invulnerable as they could.

=0=A shuttle, on its way

They knew how to share and make things last. They knew they would make it. The signal of their Prime was stronger and constant, a beacon of light in the darkness of their lives. Sparklings slept, younglings played with homemade toys and the adults did the business of making the ship fly. The soldiers did too. They all were exhausted but they were also hopeful. Safety was beckoning them onward and they flew through the night time of space with the expectation of hope.

=0=The Seekers

They sat on the bench and looked at the sky. Starscream sat between them looking upward. They were safe, well treated and felt better than they had in eons. That they achieved this in the bosom of their enemies was not lost on them. They would help Starscream get back on his peds. Then they would ask him to make the oath with the Prime. When he did, when they were clear that they weren't a threat, then perhaps he would let them fly again. Perhaps they would be able to fly together, soaring in the skies where they truly belonged. Prime would let it, they were sure. He was the Prime.

He wasn't Megatron.

Starscream leaned on Thundercracker's shoulder, his servo linked with Skywarp. He leaned on them, illness suffusing him but in some ways he felt better than he ever had. All he wanted to know now, all that mattered at the moment was the location of Megatron and when not if he would step out of the shadows to strike him down once more.

=0=TBC

c2010 (12) 

 


	10. Chapter 101-110

=0=The Diego Diaries

 

#101: Sparking for Dummies 

 

=0=Ironhide

He sat on a rock at the beach pulling a datapad from subspace. It was a selection of downloads on sparking and sparklings, a collection that Ratchet facetiously referred to as 'Sparking for Dummies'. /... **ha ha** , Ratchet … let's see what this says .../

"Carriers in the last two decaorns become very empathetic and interested in the comings and goings of close family and colleagues."

/... oh oh .../

"Carriers find themselves in the throes of emotional empathy and as a consequence the mechs and femmes in which they come into contact will find a great deal of attention paid to their emotional and spiritual well being as well as intimate aspects of their personal lives."

/... this gets worse and worse .../

"Many of them will find overtures of support in their personal lives, attention to the love lives of friends and family as well as advice given freely. For the well being of the carrier, it should be taken and followed to the letter."

/... slag … Ratchet is frag on wheels when he isn't broody … I better warn everyone .../

"It is often a result of this unusual relatively misunderstood phenomenon that mechs and femmes hook up and begin the happy march to bondedness themselves, all of it brought about by a happy carrier following their programming."

/... the frag **you** say .../

"The mate of the carrier has a special role to play. They should give **unwavering** support and attention to the carrier. A **happy** carrier means a **happy** sparkling. It is often the case that the creator **usually falters** in their role as **unwavering help meet** to the carrier. This can lead to unhappiness and emotional spikes, lows and highs that can happen in the blink of an optic leaving chaos and tears in their wake, something that the carrier **cannot** control. **Ever**."

/... I hope Wheeljack hasn't filled up his equipment room … I'm going to be hiding for a while .../

"it is completely understandable that the erratic behavior of a carrier is met with frowns and harrumphing but it should be understood that a happy carrier **needs** support and it should be **unwavering. Unwavering**."

/... slag .../

=0=Ratchet

He stood in their quarters, that part of his broody programming already kicking in. He felt a bit tired. After all, it wasn't long after taking care of Starscream and he had also begun Operation Frag with the Slagger, i.e. make Ironhide putty in his servos. Sitting in the Martian Medbay with time on his hands, he had downloaded a number of medical tracts for Ironhide who had asked for them. He wanted to know more about the last two decaorns and so Ratchet complied. Sort of. He had added a flourish or two among the dry data … actually, he had edited the slag out of it and given it to Ironhide.

Ironhide was getting too comfortable. His part of this was too easy. Ratchet was doing all the work and would go through all the pain and screaming. He might as well have some of the comfort and Ironhide should have some of the pain and screaming. So his most beloved Only One was somewhere sitting on a rock perhaps reading the 'data' that he had downloaded. It was amusing Ratchet thought as he mentally rearranged their quarters this way and that, preparing for the addition of a sparkling in less than twenty days Earth time.

=0=Prime

Optimus Prime gulped as he scanned the datapad that Ironhide had shown him. Since no one on the base had a fragging clue about sparklings, carriers and their own mecho-ology they had not known that the carrier had such an ordeal. He told Ironhide so.

"What the slag? Ratchet has the ordeal? What about me? I have to recharge with a volcano that can go off at any minute. Where's the 'poor fraggin' Ironhide?'"

Prime smiled slightly quashing the greater part of his amusement in deference to Ironhide's 'suffering'. "I'm sorry, Ironhide. It's just that no one knows what this process is. Ratchet is trailblazing for all of us."

"Right up my aft too!" Ironhide said.

"Do you want to go on a long assignment for a while?" Prime asked innocently.

A glaring optic met that remark. "And leave Ratchet to run amok alone?"

"Good point," Prime said with a snicker. "It appears that you are going to do something for all of us that the humans mention from time to time."

"What's that?" Ironhide asked, not mollified.

"Take one for the team."

=0=Ironhide grumping down the hall, his sensors spread wide for a moody broody carrier, his most awesome Only One

/... ha ha … take one for the team … ha ha, Prime … wait until you have to do this … I wonder … who would be the carrier? … Prime is so touchy-feely and Prowl is so … so … tight aft about things … I wonder … better not say a word to Ratchet … next thing you know Prime'll be knocked up and broody … I didn't **need** to think that .../

=0=Rec Room

Ratchet sat in the rec room sipping an energon as he finalized a few reports about the Seekers, all of whom were in abominable condition. A long term program of regeneration and recuperation was already beginning under the supervision of First Aid who was going to be staying on Mars until Starscream stabilized more.

That left him in charge of his own time, no witnesses about, so he considered a remark that Ironhide had made to him about Wheeljack. It had been a 'floater', that is, a remark Ironhide had heard 'Jack say half in the bag and it had finally floated to the top of his processor from the Pit where it had been hovering.

"Don't **ask** **me**. I'm **all** alone."

It had stuck in Ratchet's processor and he meant to do something about it. Wheeljack was his closest friend outside of family and he wanted him to be happy. He didn't sound happy. Oh no he didn't. Therefore he would have to work two major operations at the same time. Operation Frag with the Slagger would have to run alongside Operation Get Wheeljack a Snuggy or as he thought in shorthand, Special Case: Yenta-Claus. For the terminally nerdy, clueless, dorky or shy, Yenta-Claus would be there working his magic and sowing happiness with every trod of his ped.

What Ratchet didn't know was that part and parcel of his condition was a small, infinitesimally small kernel of truth about carriers being interested in the happiness of others. The odds that his condition, his interest in fragging Ironhide and 'Jack's sorry existence could come together in the same place at the same time probably generated the impossibly small odds of 98%.

Give or take 5%.

After all, we are talking about Ratchet.

Sitting back, considering the roster of available mechs that he might hook his friend up with he got down to the hex nuts and grade 8 bolts of the situation. Wheeljack, inventor, sweethearted kind mech, tall, colorful and braver than he looked was a very cute soul. He was many things ... scientist and soldier ...

… sailor man and spy!...

/... no more Turner Classic movies for me .../

Who could he leave his best friend with … he found himself ruminating over the fan fiction that someone had shown him thinking he's be scandalized because it had him humping the twins.

At the same time.

If they only knew what a daredevil he had been before he got yoked to Ironhide they wouldn't have been surprised by how he not only wasn't scandalized but that he had an account on the same site under the pseudonym 'Bend-Over-And-Cough'.

The fan fiction had Wheeljack with Perceptor a lot. Then there were the kamikaze fics with Sunstreaker. For a moment Ratchet felt jealous since **he** was usually paired with the yellow Lamborghini. And the red one. At the same time. Plug and play. Spikes and valves … **valves**. **WHOO HOO!** And that didn't count the number of times he was beating them with hammers when there was no medical reason for it.

He loved ff dot net.

Back to Wheeljack …

This would take care and attention. Yenta-Claus was going to have to do his homework. Juggling two major campaigns wasn't out of Ratchet's experience. He didn't begin one with the intention of losing. Ironhide had to pay for his free ride and insolence while it was clearly obvious that Wheeljack had to get 'faced. That was the beginning and end of everything for the next two weeks.

That and getting the quarters ready for his perfect little sparkling.

And breaking to Ironhide that he would have to help feed it.

Old Big Tit was going to have to learn a lot of things he was going to be doing, Ratchet thought with a grin. Then he winced. Tit was such a stupid word.

Rising, tossing his energon cube across the room to land the shot, he turned and walked out with a light step in his peds. Lurking nearby, watching with a gimlet optic, Ironhide tried to parse the moods that had flitted across Ratchet's face plates. As he did, he came to a singular conclusion.

He didn't have a fraggin' clue.

=0=At the quarters later that evening when Ironhide had no reason for not coming home and no one was around to hide him

"Over there."

"All right." [lift, walk, walk, place]

Pause.

"No. I think it would look better over there."

"All right." [lift, walk, walk, place]

"Now, move this over there and bring that over here. Let's see how it looks."

"All right." [lift, walk, grab, hoist, stagger, stagger, stagger, place, pick up, walk, walk, walk, place]

Pause.

"I don't know. What do you think, Ironhide? I'm concerned about flow."

Optics as big as truck tires take in a room with a berth, a table and two chairs, a couch and a television that is mounted to the wall. What is there to think?

/... I better get this right .../ "I'm concerned about flow too, Ratchet." /... there … that's safe … I hope .../

Ratchet turned his back to Ironhide so he couldn't see the barely suppressed hilarity on his face. Turning after gathering himself he began again.

"I think that should be there, your slag pile over here and this there."

"All right." [lift, walk, walk, yank, **grab** , pick up, trudge, trudge, trudge, place, drop, * **put*]**

"On second thought ..."

/... oh slag .../

=0=Senior Autobot Staff Meeting, Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia

Ratchet walked in followed by an exhausted Ironhide and nearly everyone in the room stood up looking at Ratchet with concern. Ratchet paused then walked to his chair, two mechs jumping up to pull it out. He paused then sat watching as cubes of energon were put before him.

Prime watching with a datapad in his hand nodded, his optics filled with concern. "How are you today, Ratchet?"

"Fine, Optimus," Ratchet replied. "Thank you. Ironhide is the walking wounded today. He moved furniture last night."

Everyone looked at Ironhide who sat looking back with a glazed expression on his face. He raised a servo and waved his digits slightly. Prime smiled and the meeting started, everything being remarked, discussed and the like that was on the agenda. By the time the meeting concluded Ironhide was recharging sitting up with his optics seemingly online and everyone was taking bets on when his helm would hit the table.

=0=

 

#102: Operation Get Wheeljack A Snuggy, The Advent of Yenta Claus

 

NOTE: There is a sneak peak of a story I have on the burners that appears halfway down. Ratchet has the honors.

 

=0=Wheeljack's lab

Ratchet came in and sat watching as Wheeljack did some esoteric math for a 'refractory device' for Autobot City, whatever that was. Ratchet watched him, the excitement in his audials, the sweetness of his delight and smiled. Then he put on his yenta hat and went to work.

"So, 'Jack, when was the last time you 'faced?"

Subtle, thy name isn't Ratchet.

Wheeljack looking up with wings flashing stared at Ratchet with surprise. "Ratchet?"

"I was just checking as your doctor and as your friend."

"What brings this up?" His optics narrowed. "This isn't some tactic in your prank war with Ironhide is it?"

"No," Ratchet said, grinning. "That's been over a while."

" **What**?" Wheeljack looked at him then frowned. "He **told** me that it was still going. He hangs out in here, Ratchet, hiding from you and frankly it's beginning to bug me. He's not small and this space isn't big."

"Ah," Ratchet said nodding. "I'll speak with him."

"Good," Wheeljack said relaxing. He turned to his work.

"So when?" Ratchet asked.

"I refuse to answer."

"You can't remember," Ratchet posed.

"What? **RATCHET**! You need to go somewhere and be useful."

"Wheeljack, if you could face anyone in the garrison here and on Mars who would it be? Bonded and not, it doesn't matter," Ratchet said opening a page in his processor for details. A mech couldn't complete their mission without intel.

Wheeljack turned and looked at Ratchet, studying him closely. "What's up?"

"What's up? … I was just thinking about you, 'Jack, what a great mech you were and how you need someone to be on your side."

"You are," Wheeljack said obliviously.

"Not on your side, 'Jack. **On. Your. Side**." Ratchet looked at him pointedly. "You know, someone to be with you, talk to you in the middle of the night, someone to 'face with when you want to climb the walls. Like me. Right now."

Wheeljack looked shocked. "I don't want to 'face you, Ratchet. You're bonded."

Ratchet stared at Wheeljack, considered his sheltered life, timed it by the amount of times he probably did 'face in his whole life with anything but his own hand or a light socket and found that his total was in the negative numbers. It made him want to go 'awww'. "Wheeljack, I mean someone else. Don't you want to be with someone and have all the joy and happiness that Ironhide and I have?"

It was silent as they stared at each other.

"Okay, let me rephrase that. Don't you wanna frag when ya want to? Don't you want to know that there is someone out there who will love you as you are, put out and put up with you and be there no matter what?"

"Sure I do," Wheeljack said.

"So ..." Ratchet prodded.

"I … I have my work and there are friends and the like."

"Wheeljack, I'm going to do you a solid. I'm going to find you a partner." With that, Ratchet got up and walked out the door, his freak flag flying high.

Wheeljack sitting on his chair, his spark wilting under the sheer tonnage of his fright wondered how his life made it so much farther down in the Pit than it usually was.

He also wondered what a state of matter had to do with getting laid.

=0=Ironhide

He shot up the firing range, chatted up the soldiers, wandered through Ops Center, peeked into Medbay before running like a gazelle out the door once more, hung out on the beach until red messaging told him that his solar capacity had been met and exceeded, walked back to Ops Center, shot the breeze, walked to the beach and back, then hid out with the soldiers until mid afternoon.

T-minus 19 and counting he thought. Nineteen more Earth days until he got his sparkling and Ratchet got his marbles back. Would he make it, he wasn't sure but he knew no little sparkling was ever desired more than his and the sooner the better.

=0=Ratchet

He sat in the rec room, a datapad in his servos. He was inputting names then going over his impressions about what they would be like with his Wheeljack. As he did, impressions of stories on ff dot net filled his mind, stories that he had shamelessly searched out and read for the hoot of it.

The twins were a great pairing he thought. Ironhide was a healthy mech, liked to 'face and often. Ratchet was born to throw down with the big mountainous wonder and they had a healthy humorous rambunctious 'face life. In the stories he was either getting or giving it with the twins, with Wheeljack or with Starscream.

Apparently, the personality types of him and Starscream were compatible, those that were developed by writers that could only guess about them and make their own conclusions. Of course, he and Ironhide along with Sideswipe and Hound had been in public.

That had helped some but it was terribly amusing to read the rest anyway. Few of them wrote him with Ironhide. Apparently, 'old people' didn't 'face or if they did it was sort of 'growly Ironhide' and 'snide curmudgeon Ratchet' mercy 'facing.

Sort of pegged us Ratchet said snorting as he crossed off the mini-cons. Hmm. Wheeljack and Bumblebee. That would be a great story. He scanned the website and found none with a cursory search. So he decided to write one.

The Virgin and The Other Virgin by 'Bend-Over-And-Cough'

It was dark when the explosion occurred blowing up the lab where Wheeljack worked. It rumbled through the Ark ..."

/... Ark? … what a strange name for a space ship … Ark … well, I will bow to convention .../

"It rumbled through the Ark. Prime getting up off of Prowl turned and called out, "Autobots! What the frag?!"

Ratchet snorted. /... good thing I have an alias … I'm going to post this .../

Prowl, his normally ice cold demeanor melting away under the heat of his Prime tugged at Prime's finials.

/... I wonder if Prowl can reach Prime's finials? … he's got eight feet on Prowl … I wonder how they face? … it's bad enough with Ironhide being nearly five feet taller than me … I can't imagine that remaining three feet … although Ironhide would have some slag to say about it … 'three more feet of mech, ba-bee … can you handle it? .../ He snorted. /...who was hiding in Wheeljack's equipment room, ba-bee? … where was I? Oh, right. Prime's pronging Prowl … /

Snort!

Prowl tugged at Prime's finials. "Don't go, Optimus. Red Alert is on duty and I'm horny."

And so Prime lay back down crashing them into overload and Prowl's horn went off echoing through the now empty halls of the Ark.

**TOOT! TOOT! TOOT!**

Ratchet snorted and sighed. "Prowl, the little mech who could." Then he continued.

Ironhide was at the lab standing outside afraid to enter. Behind him carrying a med kit the valiant doctor, Ratchet risked life and limb to go into the inferno shoving Inferno aside to pull Wheeljack out by his finial audials. /... probably would turn 'Jack on .../ He gave him laborious mouth-to-mouth. When he was clear on what a great kisser the scientist was, he began to doctor him back to health.

Ironhide who had a secret crush on the handsome, brave and clearly out of his league medico rushed over and knelt. "Need any help, Doc?" he asked clearly hoping it was in the kissing department and not because Ratchet had two arms to reattach and needed someone to hold one.

"No, Ironhide. I was born to do this," he said. "You might go and get Wheeljack's blushing bride, Bumblebee. He might take a shock to the sight of his bond laying in pieces on the ground even though you **know** I will save him."

"I do know that, Ratchet because you are the best doctor in the world. I will go and tell Bumblebee." With that, the big mech turned … make that pirouetted away and disappeared back into the Ark.

He ran down the corridor passing Prime's quarters, the sounds of rising overload rising. Pausing, getting an audial full of something he didn't get often, laid that is then moving onward with great reluctance, he made it to the quarters of Wheeljack and his blushing bride, the mini-con and all around smart aft, the luminous Bumblebee.

He knocked. "Bumblebee? Open the door. It's Ironhide, your adopted older brother who once knew your genitors but only 'faced one of them because the other one was **way** too short and I couldn't find them in the berth or they would have gotten the doom of Unicron too. Me."

The door opened and Bumblebee stepped out, his chassis nearly touching the floor from the sag. He was with sparkling(s) and his gut was distended to manage the fifteen little tumblers that he and Wheeljack had spawned on some dark night (of the soul). "What?" he asked barely staying upright.

"Wheeljack got blowed up."

"Oh. Let me … I'll just transform and follow you out at eighty miles an hour like everyone apparently does **in the Ark**."

At that, he transformed turning himself inside out to accommodate their fifteen sparklings. Ironhide, his face a mask of barely contained nausea winced as a yellow mom van finally crawled together from Bumblebee's parts.

The little mom van with a sparkling peering out of each of the windows drove off with a backfire and Ironhide watched the demonic little car with great loathing. Even though he had been a mom van himself in another life, he had at least the decency to have tinted windows.

Then he transformed and drove off to watch the Nobel Prize winning sainted and much admired Doc Ratchet make it all better with Wheeljack.

TBC (Probably)

With that, Ratchet posted it to his account, Bend-Over-And-Cough and turned back to finding a fuck buddy for Wheeljack.

=0=Later that night

Just for fun, Ratchet checked his account at ff dot net and found that his story had 75 comments, all of them positive and all of them exclaiming for more of the story. Looking at it with a grin, Ratchet resolved to continue and hopefully at the end he would actually be able to pair Wheeljack up with someone.

Truly.

"Ratchet!"

He looked over his shoulder smirking at his only one lying on the berth waiting for him.

"Get over here, mech. Don't make me come over there and get ya."

With a grin, he turned off his datapad then the lights, stumbling over to where the berth now stood, lying down in the arms of his great big wonder bunny. "Goodnight, **mom van**."

"Good night, ya yellow aft slagger."

=0=

 

#103: Yenta Claus

 

 

NOTE: The relationship of Ironhide and Ratchet is based on one that I know personally. The conditions of their hilarity are actually true for two people that I knew on a daily basis for over 55 years. -The management

 

=0=In the rec room

Ratchet sat sipping his morning energon, Ironhide watching him with one optic even as he read the datapad in his servo.

"A carrier may appear irrational, even bossy but that is to be expected. You as creator should be **completely** understanding and supportive because of the fragility of the carrier at this time. Tears are possible including stamping of peds and a general need to punch something big and black- ..."

Ironhide paused looking at the statement again. Then he looked at Ratchet. Then the statement. Then Ratchet. Then he got it. Crushing a smirk that started at the back of his aft and ended somewhere around the vicinity of Alpha Centauri, he looked at his Only One with the deepest most profound admiration. For three solar cycles he had been tippy-toing around his bond watching every single thing. He continued to read.

"... punch something big and black named Ironhide. Someone who is completely awesome but such a slow reader that I predict that it will take about five solar cycles to reach this part. Boo, Ironhide!"

He put the datapad down and considered his options. Part of what he read was true, that was obvious. Part was smart aft slag from the Master. But what was slag and what wasn't? He didn't really know. And to make it all go Ratchet's way, First Aid was on Mars and he was the only one with the kind of skills to sort the wheat from the chaff. So he would have to wing it.

Somehow.

"Ratchet, how do you feel?" Ironhide asked, his optical ridges crunched just so with deep profound concern.

Ratchet looking at him with puzzlement for a moment remembered. "Uh, I'm having a bit of anxiety but nothing more, Ironhide. You look worried. Are you alright?"

Ironhide looked away hiding his hilarity behind a mask of near tears. "I … I just think about what a hero you are to me that's all."

Ratchet looked at him seeking the telltale signs. His helm was turned away SO it was hard but it appeared that Ironhide was slipping into a maudlin state.

In the middle of the rec room.

In front of mechs.

Being a fragger in the rec room was **his** thing. /... what are you up to, Ironhide? … / "Do you want to sit on my lap?"

Ironhide looked at Ratchet pulling every skill he had to school a broken-hearted expression on his face. His little pug nose even quivered. Along with his lips. Along with his deeply controlled funny bone. "You're making fun of me? You aren't the only one afraid here, Ratchet. I feel fear too."

Ratchet looked at him then reached for his servo but Ironhide jerked it away and stood up walking away without a word. He didn't look up, he didn't pause, he walked right out the hangar door and crossed the tarmac. He continued to the fence, stepped over it and walked to the rocks at the beach. Then he bent over and laughed his aft off.

=0=Ratchet

He sat and looked at the door, a feeling of unease swishing through his tanks as he considered that he had misread his Only One. He shrunk back in his seat and considered astonishingly that this was perhaps the first emotional spat that they had ever had. They didn't fight. They sparred and argued together but making it personal and emotional, no. They didn't fight.

Perhaps they just did Ratchet thought. Maybe he had hurt Ironhide when he was sad and worried. They weren't exactly working on their fifth sparkling here. This was all new territory and Ironhide was scared. He had misread the big lug. He had taunted his fears. He felt suddenly as wretched as he ever had and he rose pausing for a moment, then moved forward. Before he could leave the hangar Bumblebee ran up and handed him the datapad Ironhide had been reading.

Ratchet took it and thanked Bee, walking outside pausing. A femme was outside talking to another so he walked to them asking after Ironhide. They pointed to the beach and he thanked them walking toward the fence and the ocean beyond. As he did he started to subspace the datapad. Then he looked at it. Then he paused.

"Boo, Ironhide!"

Ratchet paused then smiled. Then he chuckled; then he guffawed. Then he stopped. He considered his next move. Sub spacing the datapad, he walked after Ironhide finding him standing on the beach looking out to sea. Catching up to him he paused contrite, slipping his arms around Ironhide's broad chassis.

Ironhide shrugged stepping away holding his head down and looking as if tears were going to fall. They stood together silently and calculatingly, one sure he had the other and the other sure he was had.

Then Ratchet burst into tears, crying loudly into his servos. Ironhide jumped at the sound startling himself and turned staring at Ratchet with shock and surprise. He rushed to him and gathered him up in his arms holding him tightly, Ratchet's peds off the ground.

Ratchet for his part enjoying Ironhide's mechly-ness continued to wail suppressing with effort his overpowering need to chuckle. Ironhide swayed patting Ratchet's back.

It was at impasse.

=0=Wheeljack

He peered out of his quarters looking this way and that then ran down the corridor entering another lab where Perceptor was working. "Psst."

Perceptor looked up and around. "Wheeljack?"

"Percy? Can I speak with you a moment?"

"Of course, Wheeljack. Come in."

And he did.

=0=On the beach

Ratchet sat on a boulder, Ironhide next to him his arm around Ratchet's shoulders. They sat together as Ratchet wailed, Ironhide clearly out of his element. He looked at Ratchet, at the forlorn medico of his dreams and realized he had never had a fight with him. Ratchet and Ironhide didn't fight. They sparred, they played, they argued but they had never in all the eons of their partnership had a fight. He felt as wretched as he ever had before and he didn't know what to do. "Ratchet?"

Ratchet wailed on.

"Ratchet, don't cry. I'm sorry." He paused. What was he sorry for? He didn't know. He just knew he was. "Don't cry. You are my hero you know."

Ratchet looked at Ironhide, sniffling. "And you're mine."

Ironhide, an 'awww' moment overtaking him leaned in and kissed Ratchet softly. And as he did someone took his picture. Then he kissed Ratchet again. Then again and again. Then he sat back stymied.

Ratchet smiled and looked at him. "You're a great kisser."

"I know," Ironhide said grinning slightly. "You better?"

Ratchet nodded. Then he smiled. "Boo, Ironhide."

Ironhide looked at him, stared at him, glanced at him. Ironhide felt the smile begin in his aft and work its way to the top of his finials. He felt it rise above him and orbit his head. Then he rose and offered his servo to Ratchet. "You **are** my hero."

Ratchet stood and looked up at him smiling with a soft expression of love that he gave only Ironhide. "And **you** are mine."

They turned walking toward the fence and the hangar beyond As they were crossing the tarmac Ironhide paid attention to his internal sensors. That was when he registered that their moment of fun and make up kissing was not a private one.

=0=Perceptor's office

"And that is why I am so frightened."

Perceptor looked at Wheeljack feeling his pain. He had been warned by Ironhide that Ratchet had 'lost his marbles' and that since he was a single non-aligned mech that Ratchet would probably be slagging out wedding bells in the smelter out back if he didn't watch out. His solution was to hide in his quarters and lab with his sensors at full blast. Apparently he wasn't going down the alphabet because Wheeljack had the first measure of Ratchet's do-goodism. "I can see that, Wheeljack. What are you going to do?"

Wheeljack's finials flashed a pale pink as he considered what he would say and then he did.

Perceptor considered Wheeljack's finials and was glad he didn't have them, handsome as they were. He flashed pink internally but agreed. It was the only way to survive a full on press of Ratchet's do-goodism. So they did.

=0=Prime

Ironhide walked into Prime's office smoke coming out of his audials. Ratchet walking behind him leaned on the doorjamb, concern on his face. "Prime, we have a problem."

Prime looking up at him considered having him take a number then sat back, folding his arms over his chassis in an unconscious display of self protection. His optics were divided. One was on the raging black inferno in front of him and the other was on the emotionally unstable medico standing beside him. "Do tell," Prime said weakly as he braced himself for anything.

=0=Lennox, Epps and Graham

They came when called and arrived by hummer stepping out in front of the conference room to walk inside. Ironhide sat in his usual place, Ratchet standing behind him rubbing his shoulders. Prowl nodding and sliding the ladder over sat down beside Optimus and waited for them to climb, traverse the table and sit on their benches which Ratchet had taken down from the shelf where they were stored along with other furniture for other humans when they came.

Lennox shifted looking at their grim faces and gulped. "What's up?"

Prime leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "We have a problem," he began.

=0=Lawrence

He hurried away from the beach running as fast as he could go and when he reached the four wheeler that he had ridden over on, the only one they had left of the two they started with thanks to Springer, he drove madly to the barracks. Walking inside, he went to his quarters and took down the suitcase that he kept on a shelf in the closet.

Sitting to review the quality of the photos, he smiled and reached into his suitcase pulling out a thick book. He had brought it along for just such a opportunity knowing the retail value of intimate photos of the robot monsters that they were going to be seeing. It had taken a lot of time and a lot of balls but he got his money shot. Opening the book, he inserted the camera into it, the space carved out before he had even arrived. Then he closed it, patting it with a smile.

A phone call to the company and he would have a ride out, taking with him all his photos and the Holy Bible that they were currently resting in. Putting the book back into his suitcase, he put it on the closet shelf and walked to the kitchen to get a beer. His heart was racing and his smile was continuous as he considered his future and its much, much greener hue.

=0=Lennox, Epps and Graham, Conference Room

"Holy crap."

Prime leaned back nodding. "Concise and to the point."

They sat and stared a moment then Lennox shifted feeling a pain between his eyes. "May I ask a few things without causing offense? I hope you know what you mean to the three of us but there is a few things I would like to ask? If you don't mind."

Prime looked at Ironhide who looked up at Ratchet who shrugged. "Ask."

Lennox nodded. "You know we are aware of relationships among you. We don't have the kind of problem with them that some do among us. You aren't us. What you are and who you are to each other is the way it is supposed to be, right?"

Prime nodded.

"But I have to ask something... you **kiss**?" Lennox asked looking at Ironhide who began to frown deeply. Ratchet smirked and began to knead his shoulders harder.

"Yeah, some of us. Most of us. We do." Ironhide paused. "Ratchet told me about what you and your femmes do together. Can't say I get it. Can't say it doesn't make me wince myself."

Lennox nodded. "I know Ratchet is going to have a sparkling in a couple of weeks. By the way we're just thrilled to know and will keep the secret. But it's … strange."

Ironhide leaned forward. "Not for us."

Lennox nodded. "I know. Our people are going to freak out, some of them. Some won't. They know you're not humans and you have your own ways but this will be all over the place and it won't be good. Did you see anything at all that might help figure out who this might be?"

"Hound is tracking the culprit," Prime said. "When we know that we can do something about this. I don't want it to leave the island before we nail the one responsible. I have asked the Air Commander to hold all flights out of here for a couple of hours and they have agreed unless there is an emergency."

"You know it was a merc," Epps said.

Graham nodded. "Who else?"

Prime nodded. "Who else indeed?"

=0=Hound and Trailbreaker

They stood at the cliff side overlooking the beach where the Autobot youngling soldiers have most of their parties. It wasn't too hard to track because the spy didn't try to hide their traces. They walked toward the base following first footsteps and then the tracks of a four wheeler. By the time they reached the Administration Building for the base the traces were gone. But the modus operational was clear. It was a four wheeler. Trace that, get the culprit. They stood and stared in the direction the tracks had led. They stood and stared at the merc barracks. Then they turned and walked back to the Autobot hangar and Prime.

=0=

#104: Lawrence

 

=0=A few moments after the meeting

Autobots began to drift down to the firing range where the booms and blasts began in earnest. By the time it was truly a noticeable problem there were 20 Autobots firing. It rattled the windows bringing attention from the civilian and military workers. They came to the windows and the tarmac to watch and comment.

It drew out the mercs, three of whom were newly arrived and they watched with as much fascination as the others. It reminded them of what the Autobots were and what battle for them must be like. The barrage continued then it stopped, the Autobots turning almost as one to walk back slowly and calmly to the hangar.

Everyone watched them too, mystified as to the matter at hand. When they were all out of sight in the hangar everyone began to turn to walk back inside. Then they stopped as they saw Optimus Prime emerge followed by Ironhide, Ratchet and three of their own human soldiers. Pausing, they stood and watched as the small group of soldiers walked toward the merc barracks. As they watched further, a hummer carrying Colonel Fulton rounded the corner of the Administration Building heading toward the firing line.

Something was up.

=0=Optimus Prime

He was tired of the mercs, of Daniels and others like him. His soldiers went out to battle, got hurt to the point of brink of death some of them, yet they still didn't get respect. Some of the people they had to deal with had no idea of what they could do and what a barrage was like. So he showed them.

His soldiers, youngling and full on adult had shown them a tiny snippet of the life experience even the youngest among them could boast. They had all endured. They had all survived and kept coming back to defeat their enemies and that was being disrespected. It rankled him more than he thought it did, triggered by the innocent moment between Ironhide and Ratchet.

The fact that some of the civilians they dealt with were homophobic and applied their prejudices to the Autobots who did not even meet the standards for that prejudice was galling. They were androgynous. They didn't bother with gender divides. Anyone could be sparked. Anyone could create and anyone could be a carrier.

Gender was irrelevant in a species that could create life without even participating in the process. Any number of the Autobots had been granted at the Well and in theory had no individual genitors. Yet here they were being exploited by someone who had no honor.

He was sick of it.

Prime reached the merc barracks at the same time as Fulton and he stood looking at the humans who were backing up warily. "Get Daniels. Now."

They stood a moment then one merc nodded, turning to run inside. They stood staring at each other, the mercs looking at Fulton, Lennox, Epps and Graham, seeing no support among them. After a moment the merc returned, Daniels walking passively behind him. He paused looking at the group before him then folded his arms, an expression of irritation on his face. "What do you want now?"

Prime quashed the urge to step on the human, bending down instead. "I want the pictures."

Ratchet watching the mercs closely saw one move, flinching slightly. Daniels walked forward moving toward Fulton. "What is he talking about? What pictures?"

Fulton eased out of the hummer and walked to Daniels leaning slightly into his space. "One of your goons took pictures of two Autobots. Pictures are forbidden here and a part of the contract agreement for your goons to stay here is to obey all the rules. I want the camera and the pictures."

Daniels turned and looked at his mercs, the men staring back at him impassively, if nervously shifting. He looked back at Fulton. "I guess you're mistaken." He then turned to walk back to the building.

Fulton steam rising out of his ears turned. "Major Lennox, I want that barracks turned inside out."

Lennox nodded and the three soldiers stepped forward as Daniels turned enraged. "What are you doing? You can't go in there."

"Read the regulations, Daniels. I can throw you all in the brig for this. Them for breaking the rules and you for obstructing."

"You wouldn't dare," Daniels said stepping back. "I'll have your job."

Fulton fully incensed stepped forward. "I can. And as for my job, you little bastard, you couldn't fill my shoes."

Lennox, Epps and Graham walked past the mercs and entered the building as Daniels stepped away pulling out his phone.

"Give it a rest, Daniels. I already have permission from the State Department. I have friends too," Fulton said. He stepped closer to the younger man leaning into his space. "You're an entitled little shit, I'll give you that. Your old man can't save you from obeying my rules. The rules are damned clear. No pictures of the Autobots. If you can't follow them then get your ass on a plane and get off my base."

"For how long?" Daniels asked.

Fulton just stared understanding completely the threat.

"For how long is this your base?"

"For as long as I want it, you little bastard."

A shout from the door caught their attention as Graham walked out, a black book in his hands. He walked to Fulton and handed it to him. Fulton looking at Daniels with something short of triumph opened the Bible in his hands and drew out a camera. "Well?"

Daniels shrugged, his jaws clenched. Fulton turned the camera on and saw pictures of the Autobots. There were pictures at the beach of Ironhide and Ratchet as well as pictures of the Aerialbots, the gunner, Bluestreak, the Lambo twins and others including the mini-cons.

"Who does this belong to?" Fulton asked looking at the mercs.

No one spoke. Lennox turned walking inside again. He returned with a suitcase, the tag clearly delineating who it belonged to. "It says Lawrence Dobbs."

Everyone turned and looked at Lawrence who stared back pale and defiant. "So what. Anyone could have put it in there."

"Anyone?" Fulton asked with derision. He looked at Lennox. "Arrest him and throw him in jail."

Daniels turned, considering speaking and then paused watching as Lennox gripped Dobbs none too gently. Then he turned to walk inside without a further word. The mercs looked at him then the others, turning as one to walk back inside as well.

Fulton looked at Optimus, then the building. "I am sorry, Optimus."

"It's not your place to apologize. But I am grateful that you could resolve this. I would hate to be responsible for another barracks being reconstructed."

Fulton laughed then walked to his hummer. "I will have this man sent home and return the camera and its contents to you as soon as the ink dries on the paperwork."

Optimus nodded. "Thank you, Colonel."

Fulton climbed inside his hummer and sped away leaving the soldiers, Lawrence and the Autobots. Prime looked at Lawrence who stood stone faced and silently in Lennox's custody. He knelt and looked at the merc. "Why?"

Dobbs shrugged. "I don't hate you."

"Then why?" Prime persisted.

"It could make me rich. I could retire and not work another day in my life. Pictures like that are worth a great deal to the outside world. They want to know things."

"It is in the best interests of the survival of your species that we are here and that some things remain private. How can you jeopardize that for financial gain?"

Dobbs looked at him, considering him. "It's not like Todd. It's not personal with me."

Prime felt his anger rise, then he tamped it down. "It is with me," he said quietly and then he rose watching as the soldiers dragged him with them to incarceration.

Ironhide walked to Prime pausing by his side. "What sort of slag can Fulton expect?"

"He better get none. After all Fulton isn't the one in contact with the Decepticons."

Ironhide smiled. "Promise me you will let me be there when you tell him."

Prime smiled and nodded relaxing slightly. Ratchet walked to him and looked at the barracks before turning to Prime. "Me too," he said with a grin.

They turned and walked back to the HQ.

Lawrence would sit in his cell for two days then be unceremoniously shipped off Diego Garcia for the United States. He would then be unceremoniously dumped from the payroll of Intel-Martin for getting caught being stupid.

No one would miss him. For now.

=0=Later, in the rec room

They stood in the doorway watching the room wondering how they could get to the energon and back without being intercepted by Ratchet who was sitting with Ironhide, Bumblebee and Hound talking at one of the tables. They glanced at each other then decided to put their self defensive plan into action.

Gathering up their courage, they walked together to the dispenser and got energon. Looking for a table with a clear view of Ratchet they walked to it and sat down. Then Wheeljack looking at Perceptor at the far side leaned forward. "Percy, you need to sit next to me."

Perceptor long academic and short romantic jolted. He nodded. "Oh. Oh, right, Wheeljack." He slid his cube across the table and rose taking a seat next to Wheeljack. "Is this better?"

"Much," Wheeljack said. Then he scooted his chair closer to Perceptor until their arms nearly touched. "This is even better."

They both looked up and noted Ratchet's laser guided optics fastened upon them. They both swallowed hard and leaned against each other at the same time touching shoulders.

Ratchet still stared leaning forward slightly as if to get a better view. They swallowed again, glancing at each other. Then Wheeljack moved his knee to touch Perceptor's. Percy looked at him, startled, then Ratchet. Then he pressed his knee against Wheeljack.

Ratchet still stared.

=0=Ratchet

:Ironhide:

:What?:

:Promise me you won't look:

:At what?:

:'Jack and Percy:

Pause.

: **YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO LOOK**!:

:What? You're losing me here, Ratchet:

:Percy and 'Jack … I think they're getting together:

:How can you tell?:

Pause.

:Ironhide?:

:What?:

:You are such a buzz kill:

Pause. Access. Download. Clue.

:Thank you, Ratchet. I try:

=0=A few minutes later

Perceptor and Wheeljack paused outside of the science equipment closet that faced the hallway and was shared between the two labs. They looked at each other.

"Do you think we fooled them?"

"I don't know, Percy. Ratchet looked kind of feral."

"He did. I don't understand those two. They scare me. I think you're brilliant, 'Jack to beat them at their own game."

"Ratchet is cunning but we have so much processor power between us that if we team up Ratchet can be defeated."

Perceptor nodded then remembered something. "'Jack, I want you to see something that you used last time you decided to synthesize plastic into bio sludge. It's in here."

Perceptor turned and opened the door stepping inside. Wheeljack joined him and as they discussed the small tool lying on the top shelf the door closed. They turned and looked at it. Wheeljack slid past Perceptor and took hold of the knob. It didn't budge.

Then the lights went out.

It was silent a moment, then a jostle was heard. "Sorry, Percy. It's small in here."

"I know, 'Jack. I apologize for jostling you."

"That's all right."

It was silent a moment, then another jostle was heard.

"Percy."

"'Jack?"

"Percy..."

"Oh, 'Jack."

Outside in the corridor, a smug look of utter triumph on his faceplate, Ratchet the Feral, Ratchet the Cunning, Yenta Claus chalked up one more victory. There were two less lonely bots in the world if the sounds inside the closet were any indication that the communications gap between the two had been bridged.

Eventually someone would find them and after breaking the lock and electrical system from the micro-charge he had given it from one of his talented multipurpose digits, they would be rescued.

But not now.

Ratchet walked away smiling. /... processor power be slagged … cunning trumps smarts every time .../

=0=

 

#105: “I want to fly.”

 

=0=Autobot City, Mars

When thou seest an eagle, thou seest a portion of genius; lift up thy head! - _William Blake_

=0=Autobot City, Mars, Seeker Compound

The sun was up and the day was beginning. Starscream had awakened early and had walked to the doorway standing half in and half out, staring at the colors of the morning sky. Thundercracker was nearby watching him ready to explain something at the merest frown of confusion, to help him with something he couldn't grasp as of yet. His frailties were holding him hostage and it was painful in the extreme that this force of nature was so feeble. The doctors had said he would become better and they hoped so. All of them hoped so.

"Do you want to sit in the sun?" Thundercracker asked quietly walking up to stand beside Starscream.

"I want to fly," Starscream said softly. "Why can't I fly?"

"You are still weak and recovering," Thundercracker said softly, slipping his arm around the Seeker. He waited for the shrug, for the hothead to rise up and assert himself but he didn't. He seemed to welcome the support, the warmth of another's touch. He was not himself for that reason alone. Only in intimacy did he suffer gentleness before, as if laying his guard down in the quiet of their company was the only safe place. Now he seemed to seek out and welcome comfort, doing so without the shameful sense of weakness that he always associated with empathy and intimacy outside of the berth.

For any number of reasons the idea of softness, of something that wasn't hard and brittle was anathema to him leaving him vulnerable to attack from the one who was the source of all their suffering. He couldn't give, he couldn't submit. Megatron exploited that. He exploited weakness and so Starscream was hard. He was hard until he shattered, his injuries and insufficient nourishment combining to break him. The idea of it rankled, his weakness, his illness, his confusion. They were the enemy too.

"I wish to fly," he said simply. He turned and looked at Thundercracker, his optics searching him for deceit, for the hidden agenda that everyone in his life for so long always seemed to have. "I wish to fly."

"I will see to it, Starscream," Thundercracker said holding the Seeker with his servos, his gentle touch steadying the weaker mech, holding him still in his confused agitation. "You are only a few orns away from almost dying."

"He's near isn't he? I look for him, waiting for him to find me."

Thundercracker pulled Starscream into his embrace, the misery of eons of beatings, fights, blames and failure pressing down upon him. Starscream didn't pull away, he didn't take issue. He just hesitantly tightened his arms and lay his helm on Thundercracker's shoulder. "Tell them I need to fly. Megatron can't catch me in the air. Will you do that?"

"I will, Starscream," Thundercracker said quietly.

Standing behind him, a grim look of misery on his face, Skywarp listened. He glanced upward watching the sun warming the air around them and the sky putting on a spectacular color display. He wondered if one morning he would look up and see Megatron. He stepped back into the shadows of their barracks, a cold frisson of fear coursing through his spark.

=0=Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

He stood waiting as Springer finished a task. Turning, the big green and yellow Wrecker walked to Thundercracker, the taller Decepticon looking down at the Autobot impassively.

"You wanted to see me?" Springer asked pausing to wait.

"We would like the freedom to fly," Thundercracker said quietly. "We need to fly."

Springer nodded. "I know. Starscream isn't up to it is he?"

"He asks for permission to fly. I don't think he's ready but the moment he is I would like him to know he could."

Springer nodded. "Does he remember me?"

"He hasn't spoken of you," Thundercracker said hesitating. "We didn't allow him to harm you."

Springer looked at the big Decepticon then took his arm pulling him to one side. He looked at Thundercracker with hard optics measuring his veracity. "What can you tell me about that?"

"Starscream was very ill. He was obsessed, as if he needed an enemy with Megatron gone."

"Where is he?"

Thundercracker shook his head. "I don't know. He was there when the Fallen fell getting treatment and then assigning blame. He beat Starscream nearly to death then left. We don't know where he is."

"You would tell us if he came back …" Springer began eying the Seeker darkly.

Thundercracker nodded. "Starscream expects him too. He wants to fly so he can't be caught. In the air, Megatron could never catch him."

"What happened then?"

"He captured you and was going to spark merge. He hit you with a null ray and was on his way when we staged an attack and diverted him. It took three blasts to bring him down then we left leaving a comm device for you to use."

"You and Skywarp?"

Thundercracker nodded. "We cannot let Starscream fall that low. Megatron broke him. He was not himself."

Springer nodded. "I hope you don't expect a thank you from me."

Thundercracker smiled slightly. "No. I don't."

Springer smiled slightly. "I will ask Prime."

"Soon?"

"Soon."

Thundercracker nodded and turned walking back to the door. He walked through it and disappeared. As he did Springer walked to the comm station and put a message through to Prime.

=0=Medbay

"Stay away from blunt objects. I'm tired of putting your sorry aft back together," Ratchet grumbled at Bee who had while dragging around the island with Sam and his mother rebounded into a boulder. "You fragging mini-cons aren't invincible."

Bee smiled and nodded. Slipping down, he limped out the door, Ratchet's optics watching him as he went. Turning back Ratchet picked up his tools and walked to the back rooms where he put them away. As he did he found he had nothing to do. There were patrols going out and coming back, Autobots coming and going to Autobot City. Here he was stuck on his aft pulling shifts in Medbay fixing mini-cons who needed a balpeen hammer to the noggin.

He sighed and walked to the corridor heading for the rec room and company. It was mid morning and mid shift, teams in the field and troops inbound from Mars. It was a slow day and he felt the good of it. They didn't have too many of those kind. Best to kick back and not jinx things.

=0=Not so far away

They had traveled and traveled stopping for energy for their shuttle and to synthesize energon for the passengers. They had a small capacity so they shared what they could and did without the rest of the time. The signal message was stronger and they were getting closer. They needed that. Their journey had been arduous and the younglings among them needed to know that this was not their life.

The five Autobot soldiers worked in seamless shifts flying the shuttle. Beyond the stars ahead was the source of their hope. Beyond the stars ahead was Optimus Prime and his Autobots. All they had to do was make it.

=0=Rec Room

Ratchet sat in the rec room, his peds on a chair, his datapad in hand. He was writing another epic inspired in part by feedback from his first posted online story, 'The Virgin and the Other Virgin'. Considering how slow things were he felt he had time to explore his literary side. An update to the Wheeljack/Bumblebee story and then a new one, 'The Sexy Doctor and the Mom Van' would test his typing ability and his gag reflex. That one, 'The Sexy Doctor and the Mom Van' would be his magnum opus, the one immortalizing his great love, himself. Oh and that other guy, whatshisname … Ironhide.

He grinned.

=0=Cosmos, Autobot City Air Field, Mars

He waited at the air field streams of cargo going out as well as seven replacement soldiers and a line of cargo and homecoming soldiers standing nearby. He was busy, he had company and even in the space runs he was connected to the Aerialbots and to the mechs at Autobot City. Life was good and he wasn't lonely.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stood in line, their gear bags lying at their peds. Their shift at the colony was concluded and they were coming home. They were glad because the next night was New Years and the beach party was going to be huge. Everyone who wasn't on shift would be there including humans. The seven soldier femmes from the Army and Air Force would be there too. They were even expecting the Senior Autobots and the younglings. It would be great. Every scrap of wood, every loose pallet had been scavenged and stacked at the beach.

The line shifted and the last cargo was on loaded. The soldiers grabbed their gear and moved forward entering the hold to settle among the crates filled with energon. The last one was in, the hold door closed and Cosmos rose happily into the air moving upward into the vacuum of space once more.

=0=Rec Room, nearly a joor later

Bluestreak walked into the rec room and spotted Ratchet. He smiled and walked over to sit with him. "Hi, Ratchet. How do you feel today?"

Ratchet smiled. "Good. You?"

"Sunny and Sides are coming back today," Blue said smiling. "Its been so long and we were hoping they would be there for the beach party tomorrow night. Are you coming? Its going to be great. I asked Prowl to come and bring Optimus and Jazz and Mirage are going to be there and also Hound and Trailbreaker and all four younglings. I hear that the femme soldiers are going to be there and even maybe Colonel Fulton."

Ratchet smiled. "I will drag Ironhide."

"And Wheeljack and Perceptor too if you can. They just look at me like I'm crazy when I ask them. I don't think they get out enough. They're really nice those two."

"They are. They are just too nice for their own good," Ratchet said glancing over at the door as the sound of a shuttle landing drifted in. "I hear Cosmos I think."

Bluestreak smiling rose and turned, pausing. "I have to go. I hope you come, Ratchet."

"Count on it, Blue," Ratchet replied watching as Bluestreak walked to the hangar door and stopped watching something Ratchet couldn't see. For a moment, the youngling soldier stood watching then he was swept up by Sideswipe who rolled up dropping his bag, grabbing Blue to kiss him senseless. He set Blue down, grinning broadly only to be bumped aside by Sunstreaker who dropped his bag and picked up Blue. He rolled away leaving Sideswipe standing by himself with two bags. Sideswipe scowled, picked up both and skated off to follow, the three disappearing down the road toward the barracks and quarters beyond.

Ratchet grinned glad to see the youngin's back and pleased at the happiness that so many had achieved because of the first landings, the first sojourn here. They had come together, the four of them following Bumblebee's signal. All five of them had suffered and worked harder than they should have but now it was paying off.

There was hope for families here, for youngling soldiers to make plans for their life and find love. There were allies and sparklings, friends and space to live. There was a planet nearby that had the hope of them all including those who were coming. He considered the message that had been received days ago, one that was coming from a shuttle filled with refugees.

"We heard you."

That was all they could retrieve. The rest, garbled and static filled was hopeless. But the best wasn't.

"We heard you."

Ratchet smiled and looked at his datapad smirking at the title of his magnum opus. Tomorrow night he would drag his 'mom van' to a party on the beach that would celebrate the human's new year. And as they celebrated for the humans they would be celebrating for themselves.

=0=

 

#106: Happy New Year! 

 

=0=Mid morning, New Year's Eve

The shifts had changed and the Martian mechs were back. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker along with the younger mechs were down at the beach readying the wood pile for the bonfire. Wheeljack and Perceptor had decided not only to come but to have fireworks. That had been heavily vetted by Prowl and all seemed to be in order.

"There are going to be younglings there," Prowl said, his three little mechs and their darling femme foremost in his processor. "We can't have anything that will harm anyone, 'Jack."

Wheeljack backed by Perceptor agreed and turned to their bundles and spires with even more of an eye for safety. Prowl grinned, happy that the mechs and little femme would have fireworks. They had always had fireworks on important days in Praxus.

Prime discussing a matter with Springer over the heavily encrypted comm link between Ops Center, Earth and Ops Center, Mars agreed with the plan he had posed. Touching base with First Aid he also received an update on the Seekers all of whom were decidedly better physically and emotionally than before including Starscream. Although that Seeker was still the frailest, still had faulty memory recall, still had post traumatic stress to a great degree his overall picture had improved. Prime felt relief at that in an odd sense. Starscream was his ward now and he had to help him recover. That he could even entertain such a thought given the past surprised him.

Turning, rising, he walked to the rec room. Sitting on chairs chatting together Rambler, T-Bar and Spirit waited with Prowl and their day care mech, Trailbreaker. A long rotating list of mechs who volunteered to help took care of the younglings while their guardians were on duty had been formulated and had taken the strain off caring for the little ones while working too. Trailbreaker holding Silverbow in his lap was on duty today. Walking to the table, sitting with his family, Prime let everything go for a while. Right now with them, he was as happy as he had felt in eons, something he thought he would never be able to know.

Shortly he would be going on a quick run to Autobot City and a meeting with Starscream. He would talk to him and get a measure of his disability. Then he would get his oath. Without it given, he could not let the Seeker fly. It was not so much for the protection and security of the Autobots. It was for Starscream.

=0=At the beach

The woodpile was divided. There was the pile they would start at sundown and there was the pile that would be supplemental. The mechs had stacked up the main pile and it was filled with different additions from Wheeljack and Perceptor who were there to set up fireworks as well. Because there were younglings they had decided to make the fire colorful. Putting bags of different elements into the stack at different places would insure that the fire would burn with colorful shades all over it. It would almost be like the Christmas tree that they still had up in their play room. The infants loved it so much they couldn't yet take it down.

"This will be fun, Percy," Wheeljack said smiling as he helped Perceptor set up the fireworks.

"I know, 'Jack," Perceptor said smiling back. "This is going to be the best New Year ever."

Wheeljack smiled and squeezed Perceptor's arm. "I agree," he said simply.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker moved this and that log under Bluestreak's direction as they created a place for the femmes to sit and not be harmed. There was an enormous number of mechs coming, everyone in the garrison. Prowl had worked the schedule so that everyone who was on duty would only spend one joor before someone else came to relieve them. No one would have to miss more than a joor of the celebration and he had confirmed to Blue that he, Optimus and the little mechs would come. Silverbow and her teddy bear along with her newly legally confirmed genitors would be there too. It was going to be great Bluestreak thought with a smile.

Sunstreaker pausing to look at Blue smiled too. For the first time in his life there was another path besides battle. He had Blue. He had his brother. He had a home to fight for again. He was happy.

"How about that one over here?" Blue suggested to the two and they bent their backs to make it happen, lifting the drift wood trunk to the appointed place..

Ironhide standing nearby watching snorted. /... where were you two when Ratchet was beating my aft? .../

=0=Autobot City, Mars

Springer stood by the gate as Optimus Prime drove up and transformed. He greeted him and they talked together for a while. Getting caught up, informing Springer of the change of staff during the New Year's event that night, they turned to walk inside heading for the main conference room where Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp waited. He paused, getting a grip on the tumult of emotions that filled him then entered, pausing again. Starscream looking oddly small and hollow sat on a chair alongside Thundercracker who was slightly turned in his direction. Skywarp too nervous to sit was pacing behind them. First Aid, called to the meeting was sitting nearby watching Starscream intently. They all rose including Starscream, his body frail but his pride intact.

Prime moved and motioned them to sit which they all did, Thundercracker and Skywarp pausing long enough for Prime to sit first. When they all had Prime turned to Starscream who sat staring at him with a shuttered expression.

"Starscream, I am glad that you are up and feeling better," Prime said neutrally.

Starscream didn't speak a moment, then he leaned forward looking intently at Prime. "I know you don't I."

He stated rather than asked it, putting a pall in the room almost before the words rolled out of his mouth. Prime blinking glanced at Thundercracker, himself surprised. "You do."

Starscream nodded. "I don't think we were friends."

"No. What do you remember?" Prime asked gently.

Starscream thought a moment, the effort painful. Then he shrugged. "I remember we weren't friends. I think you hurt me once."

Prime considered the many times they had fought and the mutual toll that had occurred from the encounters. "We were soldiers on opposite sides, Starscream. It was never personal on my part. I preferred peace."

Starscream considered that and nodded. "You did. I remember. You bear the Matrix."

Prime nodded.

"The war... is it still continuing?"

Prime nodded. "It is."

"And Megatron? Does he still live?"

Prime shrugged. "We don't know. I was hoping that you could help us there."

Starscream leaned back exhaustion evident on his face. "He will come. He always comes. I have to fly. He can't catch me in the air. No one can. Did you know," he said leaning forward, "that I am the best aerialist in Cybertronian history?"

Prime nodded. That was true. No one ever existed who could fly like Starscream. That is what made him so deadly.

"When I fly nothing else matters. Nothing can harm me. I can fly and be free. You grounders … you have no idea."

Prime nodded. "I can see that."

"I want to fly."

"I have to know a couple of things, Starscream. I need your oath."

Starscream looked at Thundercracker who nodded, a gentle expression on his face. Starscream looked at Prime studying him. "I know you."

Prime nodded. "I know you. You have sanctuary here. You will be safe and cared for here. I need your oath as a Seeker that you will lay down your arms and stay here as a neutral, as someone who will not pick up arms in the war again."

"What if Megatron comes? He will come and he will hurt me again. He always does. Did you know I took all his beatings without backing down? He never could accept defeat. So he took it out on me. None of the others were harmed because of me. I, Starscream took them all."

A pang of compassion piercing and bright impaled Prime as he listened. Starscream needed to talk so Prime let him, the expressions of pain and sadness on Skywarp and Thundercracker underlying the horror of what the Seeker said.

"He hurt me in every way possible. There was nothing so low he wouldn't do to me to feel better and I let him. He never broke me, Prime. He never got to me. I never let him in no matter what he did. I beat him every time."

Prime nodded, his tanks churning. "You did."

Starscream nodded. "I did. But I know he will come again and I need to be able to fly. I can't let him catch me now. Right now, I'm not strong. I will be again. Then I can kill him. But now he will kill me and I don't want to die before he does. I never did before. Let me fly so I can escape."

"You will always be defended here, Starscream. No one is going to get you here. You have my word."

Starscream nodded. "This fortress is strong. I cannot tell where I am. It doesn't look like Iacon. Is this new?"

Prime shifted. "It's in a new place, Starscream. We aren't on Cybertron. We are on Mars."

Starscream nodded. "I don't know where that is."

"We do," Prime said glancing at Thundercracker and Skywarp who nodded back.

Thundercracker took Starscream's servo squeezing it gently. "I know where we are, Starscream. You don't have to worry about that. And the Prime is right. We all are safe here. And we won't let him get to you anymore. All of us, the other trine and ours, we have made an oath to prevent Megatron from ever touching you again."

Starscream looked at him clearly struggling to believe. Then he nodded turning to Prime, still clinging to Thundercracker's servo. "If I can fly he can't catch me."

"Give me your oath, the one you can't break," Prime said gently, extending his servo.

Starscream looked at it for a moment then hesitantly extended his own. They gripped and the electrical surge of their personal oaths and that of a Seeker's buzzed between the two. Prime squeezed Starscream's servo turning his gaze to Thundercracker. He looked ill, strained and sorrowful. Prime looked back at Starscream who still held Prime's servo.

"I do know you," Starscream said quietly. "Do I get to fly now?"

Prime nodded. "You get to. But you must live here. We can help you here and take care of you." Prime turned to First Aid who was watching with a sorrowful expression of his own. "How is he doing? Can he fly?"

"He is improving a little everyday. As for the memories, I'm not sure. Ratchet had to shunt a lot of his functions through other parts of his processor. Some of them are not going to repair. But the flying portions of his processor, they appear to be healing. He may be too weak to do more than soar and then glide but in time I think he will be flying well again."

Prime felt ridiculously glad at the news and turned to Starscream who was looking at Prime's servo which he still held. "Starscream?"

The Seeker looked up, searching Prime's face for answers to memory riddles that filled his processor. "I know you from somewhere."

Prime nodded squeezing Starscream's servo. "You may fly. But you mustn't overtax yourself. I want Skywarp and Thundercracker to judge and to recall you if you overdo." He turned to Thundercracker. "Call the base if you are too far away to fly back. Someone will come and get you. I will leave orders. I don't want him to injure himself again. If he can't fly that orn or that joor don't allow it."

Thundercracker nodded. "I have already made arrangements among us to protect him."

Prime nodded. "That relieves my mind." He turned to Starscream. "I hope you continue to get better. Please remember, you are safe here. You have my word as Prime."

Starscream looked at him. "You are the Prime. You have the Matrix. I know you from some place. Were you ever in Kaon?"

Prime nodded. "A long time ago. You live in Autobot City on Mars now, Starscream. You are welcome here. You are home now."

Starscream nodded, still confused. "I'm tired."

Prime rose and so did Starscream, shaky and confused. Thundercracker moved to grip the unsteady Seeker as Skywarp nervously hovered behind him. He steadied Starscream and looked at Prime. "I knew you would be what they said you are. We will not disappoint you, Prime. Thank you."

Prime nodded and moved allowing the three to leave the room. He stood, First Aid beside him for a moment then he turned. "Thank you, First Aid for what you are doing. They look better and stable."

"They are. The five are in great form," he said. "They came up to standard specs pretty fast. Starscream is a work in progress."

Prime nodded. "Let me know if you need assistance or any support. For some reason, I want him to get as well as he can."

"It's odd isn't it. I wanted him dead for so long and now I want him to live," First Aid said shaking his head.

Prime grinned and nodded. "Me too."

=0=Nearing sundown

They came in bunches and singularly, walking toward the light of the bonfire. The femmes had come dragging more men and women with them and they sat in the area designated for them enjoyed greatly the music, company and conversation all around them. Dozens of Autobots were there, the four younglings as well.

Silverbow surrendering her little yellow cup for her pink bear stood with Spirit near the fire admiring the flaring reds, greens and blues that poured out of the fire and streaked up into the night. The other younglings passed around the group by Autobots who came to get them felt for the first time the comfort of a community that would love them, help raise and protect them with their own lives.

The ocean was a dark expanse, the moon overhead shining light across its surface as waves lapped gently against the shore. Bots danced, passed high grade gathered for the occasion, laughed and talked as they relaxed together. Every joor a pair would leave and another pair would join them, their shift over.

Sitting in a group, Ironhide and Ratchet, Prime and Prowl, Colonel Fulton and his aide, Jeremy sat together talking. Bluestreak danced with Sideswipe, deliriously happy and then he danced with Sunstreaker, the yellow Lambo laughing and whispering into Blue's audials. The evening continued and then the fireworks began.

Perceptor and Wheeljack lit them off and they roared upward exploding to form different things, some glyphs in their language, some forms of different life from Cybertron, some flowers of Earth. They all watched entranced as the moments ticked by. When New Year's Eve finally came, the femmes broke into song and everyone turned to listen …

Should laud acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

and old lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,

for auld lang syne,

We'll take a cup of kindness yet,

for auld lang syne.

They stood and sat, all of them listening to the lovely words of the old, old song and at that moment they became one heart, one spark gathering together in the darkness of a new world, a young tribe and an ancient endangered one. At that moment the war was far away, the younglings held close in loving arms, lovers and friends together. Tomorrow the world would bring what it might but tonight they were one people, one tribe, one regard, one spark. Tonight, it was good to be alive.

=0=TBC

 

#107: Welcome back.

 

NOTE: Since so many readers are from other countries, I decided to put the title of this segment into as many of their languages as I can find. Welcome back, my friends. 

Welcome back. 

Tervetuloa takaisin. 

Bienvenido de nuevo. 

Bienvenue a nouveau. 

Vitejte zpet. 

Добро пожаловать. 

Bine ai revenit. 

Velkommen tilbage. 

वापस स्वागत

Bentornati. 

Καλώς ήρθατε 

και πάλι 

dobrodošao 

natrag 

Добре 

дошъл 

Welkom terug. 

Bem-vindo de volta  (Iput the words in a list and I hope they were divided in the right way. I just want to say welcome aboard, m'dears)

 

=0=January 3rd

The plane set down, the ramp doors lowering as vehicles and people vacated, walking and rolling down. They were returning from vacation out in the world. The sun was warm, temps in the eighties and the rain showers that were part and parcel of this time of year had returned. Nearly ninety degrees everyday, the low temp at night only a couple of degrees less coupled with high humidity and soft breezes made things sticky for humans. Autobots were less affected.

Lennox traveling from California, a 14 hour time difference from Diego was shot. They had ridden together, Lennox and Epps changing military transport, sometimes on standby until they reached RAF Mildenhall where they had rendezvoused with Graham. At that point, they had flown together the rest of the journey to the tiny atoll in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

Walking out, their eyelids weighing several tons apiece, they bumped into Sideswipe, himself out sunning in the warm and humid. He transformed and drove to them opening his doors. Pausing, smiling, they climbed inside and settled back, their gear stored in his trunk. He closed his doors, clicked on his belts and took them on a terror ride around the base at speeds in excess of common sense. Roaring around the merc barracks about three times, he drove to their own and parked, opening the doors wide.

They sat a moment gathering their wits and climbed out, retrieving their gear. Lennox grinning in spite of himself patted the red Lamborghini. "Thanks, Sides. That was fun."

A fat chuckle greeted him then the Lambo laid a patch as he revved up tearing out toward the beach. Epps rubbing his stomach shook his head. "I could have used that in high school. I could have used it to be cool draggin' around in a frickin' Lamborghini, but not today."

Graham grinned and nodded. "I could use some alka seltzer."

"You and me both," Epps said picking up his gear.

Lennox following laughed. "You two have just announced that you're old."

They entered their barracks and the door slammed behind them as the base went about its business once more.

=0=In Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

They got a new message from the shuttle, Springer reading it with deep interest. There were five Autobot soldiers with the twenty-seven civilians. They were now within reach of the garrison so Springer put out a call to Prime. As he waited he wondered who it was and what new skills would be brought by the traumatized civilians in their care. It would be good. They would be safe here, no longer wandering lost and it would be one more piece of the shattered glass that was Cybertron recovered and put back into place.

=0=In Ops Center, Diego Garcia, Earth Garrison

Prowl got the message and read it, excitement brewing inside himself as well. :Prowl to Prime:

:Prime here:

:I'm sending you a message from Springer:

Pause.

:I have it. Will be there in a nanoklik:

Prime rose and handed T-Bar to Bumblebee who with Judy Witwicky had the turn with the younglings that day. He kissed his kids and the little femme who had taken a shining to him and walked out moving swiftly to the Ops Center. Walking to Teletraan II, he paused beside Prowl and opened a channel to Springer. "Prime to Springer."

"Springer here."

"I got your message. I am going to scramble the Aerialbots to go and find them. They sound like they could use medical and fuel support as well. Make sure that First Aid goes and we'll cover medical from here with Ratchet, Wheeljack and Cosmos."

"Affirmative," Springer said.

"Tell Kup he's got command. I want you to lead the expedition. You are going to be leaving the solar well and going out into free space. There could be Decepticons out there and I want someone who can fight them off in charge."

"Affirmative."

"I will get a crew together and send them out with the Aerialbots. Expect to be picked up in a joor. Keep in constant touch," Prime said. "Prime out."

"Affirmative. Springer out."

Prowl turned to Prime and looked up. "Who do you suppose the Autobots are?"

"I don't know," Prime said. "But I do know that our people are coming and we have to help them get here."

Prowl nodded. "I'll let Ratchet know." He turned and walked to the comm station as Prime considered the new need to meet. Sitting, pressing buttons, he gathered together his architectural and construction mechs and set them a new task. Build more shelter for the new mechs and femmes coming in. They would go out with the Aerialbots, the two that were in Diego and join the rest on Mars to work through the day and night to make new quarters ready.

=0=Far away

They received a message, a faint one and felt a joy suffuse them that was hard to describe. They discussed it and turned once again, pressing the vessel forward into the darkness, heading toward the light and protection, assistance and freedom among their own kind.

=0=Sideswipe and Sunstreaker

They mustered their gear, Bluestreak helping them and hustled to Sky Dive pausing before the ramp. Kissing Bluestreak, taking their gear, they loaded up with Hoist and Grapple, the door closing as the big jet turned and pulled away. Joined by Air Raid, Silverbolt, Fireflight and Slingshot, they taxied forward and flew off together one after the other.

=0=New soldiers

They had come the day before, some of them from signatory nations and a few from the United Nations Peacekeeping Forces. Walking to the obstacle course, they watched as Bluestreak, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe hurried to an Aerialbot. They watched as after kissing one Autobot, two others climbed aboard flying off into the sunshine with four others.

Graham walking among them as he checked his i-phone for messages noticed their astonishment and smiled. It was going to be one of those days.

=0=At the N.E.S.T. Administration Center, the Cheerful Femmes of the United States Armed Forces greeted their leadership on their return

"And we danced and sang 'Auld Lange Syne' and it was **so** much fun."

"They had a **HUGE** bonfire and it was filled with chemicals that made it light up as it burned, sort of like a Christmas tree."

"The fireworks were **AWESOME**! You should have **been there** , Major."

"The younglings are **SO** cute. We got to hold them and play with them. You should have been there for Christmas. It was **so** much fun. Silverbow just **LOVES** her bear and she carries it now and lets her fathers have the cup. It's progress don't you see? We even get to **take care of them** an hour a week while their dads work. And Sunny and Sideswipe told us if we ever needed anything, **ANYTHING** they would be there in a moment. Isn't that just **GREAT,** Sergeant?"

"Did you know that Wheeljack and Perceptor have a thing? They are just **sooo** cute. Both of them are **such** gentlemen and they are just **so** sweet to each other its like watching your grannie and grandpa taking care of each other. I **tell you** , Major, I get **tears** in my eyes just watching them."

"You **really missed** a lot of fun. How about making get togethers a recurring thing? Maybe a beach party and barbecue on the ends of months. It **really** raised **my** morale. What do **you** think?"

"That's a great idea, Terri! I'll talk to Bluestreak. I think Bluestreak is the best one to talk to. He's **so** cute and young and he's Prowl's youngling. **He** can clear it with the Autobot leadership. I think that the Prime would **like** get togethers that build morale."

"I think that would be **awesome**. We can party **on the beach**. Did you know that they actually built up a part of their beach **just for us** , **Major**? They did it so we can be in the mix but not squished. I **love** the Autobots."

"I do too. I think we need to plan for Valentine's Day. Maybe Perceptor and Wheeljack will have an announcement. **Wouldn't that be awesome**? Did you know that they can make treats out of energon? Maybe I can make a heart shaped mold and they can make treats for the party."

"I want in."

"Me too!"

They gaggled together, then left for lunch leaving Will Lennox and Robert Epps standing in the middle of the room, all their words still in their mouths as they stood flat footed. They were overrun, unable to get one word in sideways against the femme/mech tsunami that greeted them as they came inside.

"Welcome back, Major." Epps grinned.

"Welcome back, Sergeant." Lennox nodded with a grin.

=0=Far away

They were tracking a bogey, a shape that was paralleling them as they journeyed onward. Their leader, his optical ridges forming a frown turned and composed a message.

"Incoming," was all it said.

=0=Four joors later at the Oort Field

They received the message and stepped up, flying at the top of their range, a feat made possible by their recuperation and recovery at Diego and Autobot City. They had been repaired and refueled, rested and recharged. Flying the short jolts between Mars and Earth allowed them to be up to this moment and as they streaked away from the solar well of their new home system they had only one goal in mind.

Save the shuttle at all costs.

=0=At the obstacle course

They worked, trained and paused, resting in the humidity and heat of the day. Gathered around Graham they began to ask The Questions.

"Who were the Autobots that we saw getting on the plane?"

"That was the Lamborghini twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The Autobot that didn't go was Bluestreak."

"What was that, uh, kissing about?" another asked. "I watched when their ambassador was questioned but he wouldn't talk about that sort of stuff. Said it was taboo. What's the deal?"

"The deal is," Graham explained calmly, "we are on their turf too. They live here, have an embassy here and they are who they are supposed to be here. Their relationships are what they're supposed to be for them. The hardest part of this that you might have to figure out is that they are **NOT** us. They aren't just metallic humans. They have similarities but they are totally and utterly different. They are their own mechs. Don't apply your own ideas of what is right and acceptable to them. The rules for us aren't rules for them and vice versa. They didn't come from here, they aren't us and those things don't apply. As alien as they may seem to you, that is how alien we seem to them. But get this straight. They always, **ALWAYS** are professional and courteous to us. They **never** fail to be. And I wish I could say that the reverse was true."

It was silent a moment.

"How do you stand being around all these sweet rides and not want to jump into one and tear off?"

Graham smiled remembering the morning. "It isn't easy," he said.

As they sat resting, the Autobot training specialist came into view walking toward them with his usual savoie affaire. They turned and looked at him, twenty-five feet of hulking menace, armed to the teeth, yet possessing a face like a satanic Kewpie doll. He walked toward them like a metallic Tyrannosaurus Rex, the most physically intimidating and obvious warrior on base. Graham rising, smiled. He walked forward, stepping into Ironhide's servo to rise up to where the behemoth could see him eyeball to optic. They talked a moment then Ironhide put him down, the two walking back to the soldiers who stood respectfully and silently.

Graham reveling in their unease and open-faced awe did the honors. "This is Ironhide, personal bodyguard to the Prime of Cybertron, the Autobot Army's weapons specialist and the most kick ass Autobot in the known universe."

Ironhide glancing down smiling shook his head in agreement. "Boo-ah," was all he said.

=0=Far away

They were closing, pushing themselves to the limit, shrinking the gap between the shuttle and themselves. Going at this rate they would take two full Earth days to be within strike range. They prayed to Primus, all of them, that the shuttle would be alright and the suffering Cybertronians inside would survive.

=0=TBC

 

#108: “Incoming”

 

=0=Two days later

They reached a point in which an interdiction could be made at last. Silverbolt dispatched Sky Dive and Air Raid in the direction of the sensor reading. They barrel-rolled to the side and streaked off, their weapons online and their sensors cast far and wide. Flashing forward, Silverbolt, Slingshot -complaining loudly about being left out of the 'fun'- and Fireflight raced toward the shuttle which was growing on their sensors as they closed the distance.

=0=On a hillside on Mars

They stood together having flown to this spot, the highest place on the plains in which Autobot City could still be seen. Starscream had come along, flying erratically. He was exhausted and so they picked this promontory and set down, resting together. Starscream sat slumped, his helm hanging. Thundercracker moved to sit beside him and he leaned over, laying his helm in Thundercracker's lap.

"I'm so tired. Why am I so tired?"

"You almost died, Starscream," Thundercracker explained patiently. "You will get stronger. You already are."

"I think so too, stronger," Starscream replied, turning so he could look at the sky. "This is a strange sky."

"It's ours now, all of it," Sky Warp said, squatting down beside them. "The Autobots gave it to us."

"The Prime is an Autobot. I remember that."

"He is and he promised. We can stay here and fly all we want. All you have to do, Starscream, is get well. Then we can show the grounders what real flight looks like. Even the Aerialbots can't touch us."

"No," Starscream replied. "They cannot. They try though. I think I liked a couple of them. Or did I? I can't remember."

"Don't worry, Starscream. We'll remember for you until you can," Thundercracker said, rubbing Starscream's chassis gently.

"It isn't Iacon is it? Or Vos? Or Kaon?" Starscream asked quietly as he struggled in the ashes of his memory to find the past.

"No," Thundercracker said softly. "Its Mars. Its a beautiful place, Starscream. Do you want me to tell you about it?"

Starscream nodded. "I would."

So Thundercracker did.

=0=Far away

The resonance on their sensors began to move away, paralleling their flight as the two Aerialbots sped toward it. It was a single entity of unknown design and origin. They would have to come a lot closer to ascertain what it was but that wasn't the plan. Springer wanted them in between the shuttle and the entity and prepared to engage if necessary. Slingshot, his usual loudmouthed egotism running nevertheless obeyed Sky Dive as they turned together and began to shadow the unknown.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They began work on the new quarters. This would be easier. They would tunnel out of the existing structure, making the central corridor longer and tunneling sideways for secondary passageways. That would provide the necessary framework to dig out living spaces. As they worked, plans were being drawn up on Earth to increase the Medbay and begin a facility for the younglings. Their population demands were changing and the needs of civilians would have to be taken into consideration.

=0=The soldiers

They were put through their paces, their drill instructor watching them with a critical optic. They listened to the low rumble of Ironhide's voice with clear attention, absorbing the lessons he was handing them. If they were going to be a part of N.E.S.T. Strike teams, they would have to understand how the Autobots worked, how to work around them and how they functioned as a team. The Autobots already knew what they would do. The soldiers were learning how to function without getting crushed or killed.

As they went through their paces Ratchet walked out, moving to stand beside Ironhide. They watched together as the soldiers showed their prowess as marksmen.

"So, these are the new meat?"

"Ratchet, respect."

"I'm only repeating what you said," Ratchet said smirking.

"Not so loud," Ironhide said, turning and grinning at his Only One. "How you feel?"

"Ready to drop this sparkling in your lap," Ratchet said, shifting on his tired peds.

"You and me both," Ironhide said, rubbing Ratchet's back gently. "Won't be long now."

"A little more than a decaorn."

"I suppose you like the arrangement in the cabin," Ironhide said, peering at Ratchet sideways with hope in his optics.

"I don't know, Ironhide. Could be there are better arrangements. And you haven't moved all your slag to your locker in the armory. That would help settle my processor a lot."

"Done," Ironhide said grinning. "You came all the way out here to rag me on my slag?"

"No," Ratchet said, leaning against Ironhide. "I missed ya."

It was silent a moment.

"Are you telling me the truth or is there some sort of angle you're working?" Ironhide asked, a critical optic fastened onto Ratchet's face.

"I can't tell my Only One I miss them without you throwing a rod?"

"Nope."

"Oh."

Pause.

"What have we come to, Ironhide? What does it all mean?"

"That you need to drop this sparkling and find yer marbles. The mechs are telling me that you're playing something called a 'yenta' with their lives."

"Love, Ironhide," Ratchet said turning to go. "It will find a way."

Ironhide watched him go, smiling. "It sure will, Ratchet." Then he turned and watched the soldiers once more.

=0=Far away

They reached the shuttle in time. Overtaxed from running, it was losing systems and was completely vulnerable. Communicating together, Springer supervised the transfer of the passengers into the hold of the various ships, salvaging what they could of the shuttle and blowing the rest to bits. Turning, signaling Slingshot and Sky Dive to return to their party, they began to fly back toward Mars and home.

As they did, they sent a message to Mars and Earth. Prime received it in the Ops Center of Earth and was struck with shock. He turned to Prowl and handed him the datapad. He read it and looked up sharply. "Optimus," he said quietly. "This is good news."

Prime nodded. "It is."

Now they had to wait for two Earth days or longer for the ships to arrive on Mars.

=0=Ratchet

He received word that refugees had been picked up and would be arriving in Autobot City anywhere between two and five days Earth time. Now that they were in convoy, the need for speed was lessened. All they had to do was wait at his end for the new mechs and their families.

He organized the Medbay for overflow, informing Prime that the majority of the refugees should be handled at Autobot City to lessen the stress of another journey. Anything that was out of hand would come to Earth as a last resort. Prime was good to go because it meant less explanations to the humans, who were already asking about the 'training exercises off world' that they were involved with.

He didn't know who the five soldiers were but he was pretty clear that they would be someone he had patched up one time or another. There were few Autobots that he hadn't. Maybe they had news about their people elsewhere. Prime's call was paying off and he was glad. The more families, the more sparklings and younglings, the better chance at survival they all had. And it meant the more friends his own sparkling would grow up with. It was a win-win all around.

=0=Senior Autobot Staff Meeting, Earth, three days later

They went through the daily slag, working over this or that idea and finalizing this or that plan. They talked about the refugees and the five new soldiers but in little detail. Prime was holding this one close to his chassis and they let him. He was the Prime. He had his reasons. And in all likelihood, Ratchet would find out anyway and tell the bunch of them.

They sat and shot the slag as they waited for Lennox, Epps and Graham to arrive for the weekly 'shoot the shit' session that they had with the humans. New soldiers were here and they needed to get it all straight. A horn tooting outside alerted everyone inside and brought a smile to Ratchet's face as he sat staring at Prowl. Prowl, mystified, looked at Ratchet with inquiring optics. Ratchet waved him off and schooled his smile into that little room in his processor stem where all the fun lived.

The soldiers came inside and climbed up, flopping into two more comfortable chairs that Ratchet had taken down from the shelf on their behalf. They all sat and said howdy. Then Prime began, working through the list of agenda items as Ratchet sat and fiddled with a datapad, writing on the sly his magnum opus, "The Sexy Doctor and the Mom Van". No one noticed, expecting that he was a professional doing something professional instead of being an underdeveloped sparkling working out a post-adolescent itch.

"And so I think we have reached full strength in our squads with this batch. They seem to be good team players and willing to learn. Right, Ironhide?" Lennox asked, looking at Ironhide who was leaning back trying to read Ratchet's datapad. Ratchet for his part was hunched over in his chair, blocking Ironhide's view.

"Uh, right," Ironhide said, jerking his attention back to Lennox.

"Right, what?" Ratchet asked, lowering his datapad. "What did he just say, Ironhide?"

Everyone from Prime to Epps turned their optical accoutrements onto Ironhide, who leaned back and looked at them warily. "Uh, he said ..."

"Yes?" Ratchet asked, grinning wolfishly at his stuttering Only One.

"He said ..."

"He **said** , Ironhide, that he needs you to move some stuff at the HQ."

Ironhide, glancing at Lennox and then back at Ratchet with a wary optic turned to Lennox. Leaning forward, confusion firmly in place, he asked "Is that right, Will?"

Lennox, glancing at the smirk on Ratchet's face nodded, grinning. "Yeah, Hide. We have some 'stuff'."

"Alright. When?" Ironhide asked, glancing at Ratchet with a look of triumph on his faceplate. /... ha ha, Ratchet … nice try.../

"Uh, about a half hour from when this ends," Lennox stuttered, impaled as he was on the expression Ratchet gave him.

"I'll be there." Ironhide sat back and glanced at Ratchet, giving him a smug look.

Prime, biting on his lower lip glanced around. Wheeljack was looking at Ratchet like he could do voodoo, which he sorta could. Perceptor, his servo in a vice grip by Wheeljack merely looked confused. Jazz was smothering a raucous laugh and Prowl was looking confused as well, glancing from Prime to Ratchet to his datapad agenda. The datapad was his only friend at that moment as he sat in the Ratchet Triangle, lost and alone. All the others looked at Ratchet with deep admiration including the soldiers and when they all rose to leave, Ratchet got pride of place.

He swished out, his story in hand and new ideas of what to do to a trash-talking little red mom van in the plot he was making up as he went. Ironhide walked out last and no one bothered to inform him that he had been had. He would find that out later when he moved the pile of boulders and trash behind the soldier's mess hall from where it was to 'a better spot' for the fifth time.

=0=

 

#109: Refuge

 

 

=0=Ops Center, Diego Garcia, Earth, seventh day

The word on arrival came from far out beyond the solar well. Tomorrow, they would hit the Oort Field. The four hour trip through the solar system to Mars would be next. The journey had taken longer than planned. They were running at slower speeds with heavier loads and hulls in smaller ships filled with passengers. That they were indicated unusual cargo and it was slower going. One of the Aerialbots had shifted to his Cybertronian mode to accommodate passengers better.

So they did what they do, the Autobots in Diego Garcia. They slipped away a few at a time, others taking the place of some, many making sure they were seen to make it all seem fine and normal. By the time Prowl and Prime walked out to Cosmos, all was ready and the Aerialbots were three joors out. When Cosmos rose into the sky, the Autobot garrison was down to four mechs.

=0=On the sand at Autobot City, Mars, waiting

They gathered, soldiers and doctors standing on the air field waiting. Beyond them watching intently were six silent Seekers. Starscream, a terror from the skies for most of the Autobots and all of the refugees watched as well, unclear what was happening but pulled toward the scene by the silent intensity of the crowd.

Prime stood waiting, shifting from ped to ped looking at the sky, watching. Prowl standing beside him watched too. This was long overdue. This was a miracle. This was happening. He was happy, worried and proud.

They all knew the ships were coming before they showed up in the sky. Their sensors read the approach. Their powerful optics saw them in the upper atmosphere. They watched as the Aerialbots materialized coming in one after another through the skies as they landed softly, taxiing toward the crowd who stood waiting.

Silverbolt stopped dropping his hold door and Springer jumped out reaching in to help two younglings step down. Behind him, one after another more mechs came, one sparked with his bond and a single femme. Then Blur, Brawn, Cliffjumper and Hot Rod stepped off hugging friends who were shocked and delighted to see them. The Aerialbots taxied together to one side making room for Sky Dive.

Prime walked to the hold of Silverbolt and looked inside not finding who he sought. So he turned and walked to Sky Dive who was opening the small hold that he had in his Cybertronian shuttle mode. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker jumped out smiling and turned, waiting. The last passenger stepped out and looked around meeting Prime's gaze with a smile. "Hello, Optimus."

Prime smiled extending his hand. "Hello, Magnus."

=0=On Diego Garcia

The shifts came and went, the Autobot hangar quiet and still. It was oddly cold at the base, the warmth and color had been drained by their absence and everyone waited for them to come back. Lennox stared at the doors of the hangar still open but missing the life inside. Turning to walk to the Admin building, he wished they would hurry wherever they were. It was lonely without them he thought.

=0=Inside Ops Center, Mars

They walked in, Ultra Magnus marveling at the facilities all around him. "This is amazing, Optimus. You must tell me everything. I've been out of the loop. Then I'll know better how I can help you."

Optimus paused and looked at him with a smile. "Just being here, Magnus, that helps me more than you can know."

Magnus smiled and squeezed Prime's arm. "I missed you too. Tell me everything and I'll tell you what I know about things out there."

Prime nodded and they walked to the middle table sitting down together. Prowl leaned over and squeezed Prime's shoulders. "Don't worry about the refugees. I'll take care of it." Then he smiled at Magnus and turned walking to the door and out into the facility.

Magnus watched him go. "It's good to see everyone. It's good to see Prowl."

"We're bonded."

"Prowl? You and Prowl?" Magnus asked smiling.

Prime nodded. "Yes."

"Well, **finally** ," Magnus said leaning back with a grin. "Its only taken you two the lifetime of a small star."

Prime grinned. "Arcee is here."

Magnus' expression schooled to neutral. "She is?"

Prime nodded noting a small tel, the faint ghost of a smile. "Yes."

"Well," Magnus started noncommittally. "That is … uh, interesting news."

Prime smirked and sat back himself. "A lot of our people are here. We just received fifty refugees shortly ago. And now this."

"There are so many of our people out there. Some of them are running and some are hiding. They have heard about your call and they're waiting. More than you can know are coming this way."

Prime, sobered, nodded. "That's why we're building this city. I want a place for them to come. I want to send out teams to find them. Here is the place we make our stand. The line is drawn here, Magnus. Here and no further."

Magnus nodded. "Then tell me what you want and I will do it."

With that, they sat and talked, four joors passing before they got up and Prime showed him Autobot City.

=0=Medbay

The sparked mech, Gear Shift, was about halfway through the carry phase and in pretty good condition Ratchet considered. His bond mate, a tall brawny mech called Comet stood behind them shifting from ped to ped. "How is he? Is the sparkling as it should be? We've been short on everything including proper care."

"He's in pretty good shape and so is the sparkling. I would relax," Ratchet said turning. He smiled. "You're safe now and you can get back on your peds here."

Comet looked terribly relieved and nodded. "I can work. I'm strong and I have construction skills. I can earn our way."

"You are **welcome** here," Ratchet said turning to regard the mech. "It's not like we'll throw you out if you take the time to recuperate. Besides, I'm sparked too and due to separate in less than a decaorn. My sparkling and yours will be friends. I want your sparkling to be as healthy as mine and so that means the two of you take it easy for a few orns."

Gear Shift smiled. "We didn't expect to get sparked. It happened and then there was so much fear. Do you have a protoform maker here?"

"We have two highly skilled protoform designers," Ratchet said. The relief on Gear Shift's face was startling and Ratchet squeezed his shoulder. "If you go with that mech," he said turning and pointing to Bluestreak who was guiding mechs from Medbay to their temporary quarters and an interview by Prowl for anything of import. "Bluestreak will help you settle in. I'll make a note for the chief medic of this Medbay, First Aid to be in touch with you and keep you on a schedule of check ups to follow the progress of your sparkling."

Gear Shift nodded and stepped down nearly sagging to the floor in weariness. Ratchet caught his arm and Comet took the other one steadying him. "Sorry. I'm just so relieved."

Ratchet nodded. "We know. Can you walk or would you like to lie down here a bit?"

"I think I can make it," he said slipping his arm around Comet. They turned, Comet nodding to Ratchet and left walking with Bluestreak to their new life. He watched them go and then turned looking at the line. "Next!"

=0=The new Autobots

They walked to the rec room sitting and downing energon one after another. It had been a while and the idea of plenty was hard to fully grasp. Blur sitting back and stretching began to tell their tale to the gathering of mechs that were off duty and between directives. It didn't take long and the Autobots looked at each other grinning. Some knew of Blur, a phenom in the racing circuits before the war. Some knew of Blur, a motor mouth of such speed that taping what he said and playing it back slower was often done by mechs who struggled to understand what he said.

Hot Rod disappearing with Springer and Kup was someone well known as well, a hot head with potential according to those who knew him best. Springer and Hot Rod were friends and together had left many a tale and wrecked bar behind them. What they would be here and now was anyone's guess. Springer had proven himself and was Head of Security of Autobot City and of the entire planet. It would take time to know what Hot Rod was made of.

Cliffjumper was well known. A hot headed mini-bot with the habit of sticking his ped in his pie hole before things were made clear was nonetheless welcome. Paranoid, bull headed and brash, he was an acquired taste. Bumblebee, Brawn and Cliffjumper had gone off together getting the private tour.

Brawn, small, tough and nearly as strong as Prime was a do-or-die bot who was ready to go at a moment's notice. He wasn't very accepting of anyone who was less inclined to fight and wasn't shy about saying so. A mini-con with a mouth, he was unafraid.

They were added to the roster and planned into the rotation when they were cleared by Medbay. They would remain at Autobot City. Ultra Magnus however would be coming to Diego Garcia.

=0=Prime and Magnus

They sat together talking about everything, about the Diaspora, the location of Metroplex and Omega Supreme. They discussed bringing them to Mars and setting up a network to organize the retrieval of their people. Then they discussed the alliance with Earth and her numerous governments, the treachery of the humans at Intel-Martin and the surrender and subsequent neutral status of the Seekers.

That part had become a point of contention for a moment until Magnus agreed to abide by Prime's decision. A law and order bot, Magnus would have them up on charges and tried if he had been the one to make the decisions. However, he wasn't. By the time they recessed to make a walk through of the  
facility and check on the new arrivals they had a clear picture between them of what was, what could be and what they would do next.

=0=The refugees

They were greeted and helped by the Autobots, waiting in lines for processing and medical attention in the company of many of the first wave refugees. Most of those were recovered and had occupations in the complex. Some of them were fully occupied in jobs that were needed and a few of them were already doing things that were secondary to their present condition such as art, youngling care, education and data collection as well as preservation of their historical and cultural record. As small as the hard copies were, they worked to expand it with personal first hand participant interviews and the downloading of ships and personal databases into the computer archives.

Twenty-six civilian mechs and one femme made up the new refugee manifesto. They were rescued by the five Autobot soldiers that were taking them toward safety in a rundown town on the edge of nowhere, fleeing Decepticon expansion near their small colony. Among them were two younglings and one sparked mech. Twenty-five adult mechs and a femme of varying ages as well as two younglings composed the exhausted exhilarated group that stood in lines on both sides of the hallway to Medbay. The two younglings had both genitors and were older than Prime and Prowl's little mechs.

Prime and Magnus entered and moved to where Ratchet stood examining an older mech. He looked up and grinned. "Hello, Magnus. Long time no see."

"Hello, Ratchet. I hear you are going to separate a sparkling in a few."

"Yeah. Amazing isn't it? You'd be a fool to count Ironhide out on anything I put my mind to."

They laughed and got the short and sweet. The refugees were in good condition, the sparked mech was doing well and if they were given time to rest and energize they would be fit and ready for anything.

They left Ratchet to his work and walked outside moving toward the Seeker barracks. Pausing, Prime began to explain the predicament that the trines were in and how they needed to escape the surety of Starscream's death. He explained how they had commandeered Wheeljack's lab foundation and used it to build a barracks for the Seekers.

"I'm sure Wheeljack is not happy."

"No," Prime said grinning. "He'll have to build another one nearby. I wanted it against the curtain wall so that the stone could absorb the shock of whatever he does next that blows up."

Magnus chuckled. "Still at it I see?"

"Never quit," Prime replied grinning. "Let's go see the Seekers."

They walked to the barracks pausing as Skywarp arose from the bench out front as he recognized Magnus right away. "Prime, what brings you and Magnus here?"

"Just a courtesy call, Skywarp." Prime smiled. "Your paranoia is noteworthy but unnecessary."

"My paranoia is earned, every scintilla. Magnus," he said nodding. Behind him, Thundercracker emerged followed by Dirge and Ramjet. They looked at Magnus uneasily, then Prime.

"What brings you here, Prime?" Thundercracker asked, his voice tense.

"Magnus has arrived with refugees. I wanted to show him the base. That includes Seeker refugees as well. You do know each other don't you?" Prime asked politely.

Magnus nodded, his gaze affixed upon Thundercracker. "We've met."

"In battle," Thundercracker said nodding. "But those days are over. He has told you that he has our personal and Seeker oaths?"

Magnus nodded. "He did."

Starscream hearing conversation came out of the door and paused staring at Magnus. "I know you."

Magnus stared at the Seeker noting his wan and seemingly slighter constitution. "We met, Starscream. I am Magnus, Ultra Magnus."

"I know that name," Starscream said. "Enemy. No humor. Dogged. I remember that."

Prime grinned slightly. "He remembers you pretty well I see."

Magnus smiled slightly back. "That he does."

"I flew today," Starscream said defiantly. He held himself straighter. "It felt good."

Prime nodded. "It will be easier with time."

"That doctor says so," Starscream said nodding. Then he turned and walked inside, all the others but Thundercracker going with him. Thundercracker looked at them giving Magnus an especially hard optic. Then he turned and walked inside as well.

"They don't change much," Magnus said quietly.

"They aren't against us now," Prime said turning to walk toward the fortress once more. "That's worth its weight in platinum."

Magnus staring at the building for a moment nodded, then turned to follow Prime into the fortress. Behind them moving into the doorway, his optics on the building beyond, Thundercracker watched them go. Then he turned to go back inside again.

=0=

 

#110: Countdown

 

=0=Diego Garcia, Earth, Autobot HQ

They came back in shifts, the leadership first, then mechs who had gone to help or provide security during the transition of refugees into citizens of Autobot City. Cosmos doing overtime dropped down to the base and lowered his ramp. They walked down cutting across the tarmac to the hangar. They walked to Ops Center where Prime was updated on the local situation, that is local to Earth. The email exchange between "High Flyer" and Intel-Martin was on. Apparently Shockwave had picked up the cudgel.

=0=The soldiers

The next day, Epps, Lennox and Graham met Ultra Magnus. Having heard about him from Autobot soldiers prior, the mech was not a total surprise. But his arrival was. Apparently, he arrived on Mars as the Autobots were doing maneuvers of some unspecified design. He had come to Earth to join in the effort and he was some sort of 'relation, probably brother' to the Prime. Sitting around the conference table everyone present but Ironhide and Ratchet, they talked together about the situation with Intel-Martin and how the new Autobot would be an asset.

"Intel-Martin's internal emails suggest disarray. Nast and his minions are either underground or they are missing," Prowl said addressing speculation in the group by the soldiers about the situation. "There is also rising heat from his wife, Lydia Nast who feels that the situation is amiss."

"We will continue to monitor that," Prime said glancing at Magnus. "I would like you to undertake that problem. It falls in line with your experience policing the treaties and I believe you are briefed adequately."

Magnus nodded. "I will."

"They've been quiet a while," Lennox said. "Any ideas?"

Prime considered that. "It could be a vacuum in the leadership." He looked at the others as he considered telling them the truth about their situation but that would mean letting the cat out of the bag about Mars and it was too soon.

"Starscream … he's still leading the faction isn't he? How can we know if he's gone?" Epps asked.

"We can't," Prowl said cutting Prime off. "We could monitor the linkages in the exchange. He would tip off his servo sooner or later. We caught them once, we can do it again."

Prime nodded. "Very well, Prowl. You and Magnus coordinate the effort together."

The meeting continued and when it broke up Lennox stood and stretched. "Where's Ironhide and Ratchet?"

"Still on retreat," Prime said leaning back. "They will be back later this afternoon."

"Good. The new troops are asking about him and he's missing a golden opportunity to impress them with his all around awesomeness as Ratchet would put it," Lennox said with a grin.

"They would be well advised to watch the mech behind the mech. Ratchet has him outclassed ten different ways," Epps said standing to stretch.

"He does," Prime said smiling.

They chatted a moment, then the soldiers left driving away in their hummer through the hallways and corridors of the facility. Magnus watched them go. "It must be strange to work in close quarters with such vulnerable and small allies."

"You get used to it," Prime said smiling. "I admire them."

Magnus nodded and rose. "I better get on Shockwave."

With that, he turned and walked toward the door and Ops Center beyond. Prowl watched him go, then looked at Prime noting his happiness. "You just placed a barnacle on Shockwave's face."

Prime accessed the correct interpretations and smiled glancing at Prowl fondly. "Yes. Exciting isn't it?"

Prowl chuckled and arose, nodding. Holding out his servo, he pulled Optimus to his peds. "Come on. Let's go help him." With that, they turned and walked to Ops Center together.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They sat in the doctor's lounge, Ratchet putting his peds up to sip the energon that Ironhide had brought to him. They were nearly finished with the initial medical screenings and were going to be going back to Earth in a few joors.

"Seems a waste since we're coming back in three orns. Hardly enough time to change your underwear," Ironhide said with a grin.

"As if I wore underwear," Ratchet said.

"If you could be human what would you look like, Ratchet? Besides beautiful."

They sat a moment, then Ratchet grinned. "You are so cute, Ironhide. To answer your question though, I would be tall and skinny. Taller than most femmes among their kind."

"You would. I can't imagine you with hair. That's the strangest thing, hair. But you would be beautiful no matter what. I can imagine your hair would be yellow."

"A kind of yellow," Ratchet agreed chuckling. "Probably not the shade my scheme is. I don't think I've ever seen a femme with the shade of yellow that I have."

Ironhide nodded. "True."

"What would you look like as a man, Ironhide?" Ratchet asked shifting to be more comfortable.

"I reckon I would be bigger than most men around. Brawnier and more virile. Probably be the biggest strongest man around." He grinned. "Probably make 'em cry just walking around."

Ratchet ginned broadly. "Well, that is without saying."

"I'm glad I'm not a man, Ratchet. I sorta happened to see a few of them in the shower when I was walking by Epps's office and it scared me."

"It did?" Ratchet asked surprised.

"I don't think there's anything more … odd than a man without his clothes on." Ironhide sat a moment, then looked at Ratchet. "They are so … wrinkly."

Ratchet snorted and smiled. "You really hate penises don't you."

Ironhide rolled his optics. "You like that word. I wonder about you, Ratchet."

"Well, they have penises and you have a prong. I think that if they ever saw you naked they might run through a wall too."

"A prong makes sense. But a penis? Is there anything uglier?" Ironhide said with the willies.

"I don't know. I haven't seen one in real life. Maybe I better go hang out in the showers with the soldiers."

"No, you don't," Ironhide said gruffly. "Stay away from there."

"They're mechs. I'm a mech," Ratchet said. "I'm a doctor. What is the problem, Ironhide?"

"You're my bond mate and I have a responsibility to keep you away from odd stuff," Ironhide said grumping. "I don't want you going around looking at naked men or mechs or whatever."

"Jealous, much?" Ratchet goaded with a grin.

"Jealous?" Ironhide said with a smug look on his face. "Of what? Bonded with a doctor and sparked him. What do I have to be jealous of? I did my duty."

"Your duty?" Ratchet asked laughing out loud. "Sparking me is a duty now is it?"

"Sure," Ironhide said grinning. "My patriotic duty to the Prime."

"Ah," Ratchet said grinning. "You sparked me in deference to the Prime."

"Yep," he said smirking self-satisfyingly. "You know me. Never said never to the Prime."

"You vet our 'face life with Optimus," Ratchet asked smirking.

"Yep."

"Shall I discuss this with him when we get back?"

"Nope."

"Sparkling. ***Little sparkling*** ," Ratchet said. "What would Unicron say?"

"He'd be well pleased," Ironhide said with a snort. "What's not to love, Ratchet?" he asked spreading his servos.

"I can't argue there, Ironhide," Ratchet agreed. "But then you're in a class by yourself. I even hear your pup is going to be a ringer for you."

"That's what I hear too. I hear his carrier is kinda sweet on me."

"You could say that," Ratchet said with a smile. "But it would be too small a word."

"Ditto, Ratchet," Ironhide said putting up his peds. "Won't get an argument from me."

=0=Home again

They walked off Cosmos who was making continuous round trips away under the pretense of scouting. Ratchet and Ironhide were the last to leave Mars. Their cover was security and an in depth review of the deep space array that had been launched and placed in the Van Allen Belt past Mars. That this had been done that very morning by Autobot City personnel was beside the point. They walked in and settled back waiting with everyone else for three orns to pass. Then they would pack up and go back to Mars, to the Medbay and the hope that the first sparkling to be born in their new colony would be happy, healthy and ready to begin their sojourn in the Ratchet Triangle.

=0=Later that night

Magnus stood in the hangar doorway watching the stars of a new sky, one that was safe and secure. Behind him was the remarkable achievement of his fellows, his friends, brothers and fellow Cybertronians. He was aware that many more were coming fleeing despair and hopelessness, heading on the word of their Prime for safety.

It had been a long time since he had felt hopeful. But now he did. It was easy to be dour, to be cold and cynical. It was harder to be otherwise but in the company of Optimus it was almost an impossibility. Optimus had done well, really well. He was happy and honored to add his own labors. Tomorrow, he would apply himself to destroying Shockwave and the Decepticon contingent that was close enough to strike but far enough away to be elusive. They had corralled the Seekers, a singular feat. Now they had to bag the rest. He turned and walked back inside applying his relentless implacable intellect and personality to make it so.

=0=Ratchet

He sat and looked at his story, at the Sexy Doctor who had fallen in with a broad shouldered smoldering, yet dorky red Mom Van. It was coming along pretty well. Of course, it would take a bit of tweaking. Perhaps a beta Ratchet thought. Turning to FF dot Net, he picked out a suitable idiot, someone with the strange moniker, "Arctapus" and sent the request. It came back right away. Apparently, "Arctapus" didn't have a life. So it was zipped off to be sliced, diced and julienned.

Ratchet smirked at the possibilities that existed to network out into the real world of great literature with a fellow traveler, someone who probably lived alone and kept cats, loved to drive concept cars in the movie in their mind and probably in reality suffered from objectum sexuality*.

In short, someone just like Ratchet himself. Only without the cats, living alone and driving concept cars. /... Can't drive a car when you are one … snort! … Ironhide would be all over **that** remark .../ He clicked off the datapad and turned walking to where his Only One was digging through his slag stacking grenades in one pile and razor sharp blades in another.

In short, another night at Diego Garcia, home to Ratchet v Ironhide of Cybertron.

=0=TBC

2010 (12)

*Objectum sexuality is a very rare personality disorder where people look at inanimate objects and fall in love with them, often feeling that they are reciprocating real emotions and love back. Two of the more famous were one married to the Eiffel Tower and another to the Berlin Wall. :)

=0=TBC

 

 


	11. Chapter 111-120

=0=The Diego Diaries

 

#111: Prep Time

=0=

NOTE: I have given a lot of thought to the separation process. I know other folks have done **awesome** fics about it. This is what **I** think it will be like for Ratchet. Given a spark energy form transfers across open space I have put logic to the process and this is what I have.

 

=0=Senior Autobot Staff Meeting, Ops Center, Diego Garcia, T-2 days

The agenda was short, the preparations for the garrison to move to Mars for the bonding ceremony, the separation procedure and naming ceremony for the sparkling main topics.

Ratchet listened, exhaustion infusing his chassis and he leaned against Ironhide's shoulder as the big mech rubbed his back. Prime looked at Ratchet. "The preparations are all in order?"

Ratchet nodded. "They are. Wheeljack and Perceptor have the proto-frame made and packed. They are going to send it ahead of schedule so there aren't any mistakes. 'Jack himself is carrying it over when he goes to check the labs tomorrow."

"And First Aid?" Prime asked.

"He has been going over the procedure and we've talked about it. If there are any problems, he has options."

"There won't **be** any problems," Ironhide said, his voice low and rumbling.

Ratchet looked at him and nodded. "I am sure there won't be but there is always a need to prepare for any eventuality."

"There **won't** ," Ironhide insisted. "If anything goes wrong, Ratchet, **you** are first. **You** have the priority."

It was silent a moment as Ratchet looked at Ironhide. "You don't need to worry, Ironhide. It will turn out just fine."

"I know that but I also want it **fraggin' clear** that if anything happens and there is a choice between you and the sparkling, you are the one who gets saved." He paused swallowing hard. "You know what I feel about this, about this sparkling. But you come first, Ratchet. I **mean** it."

Ratchet looked at him, then leaned in again shuttering his optics. "Don't **worry**."

"I am making it **clear** here and **now** ," Ironhide said. "In front of everyone and including you, Prime. Ratchet is **first** if there's a problem. I want that understood. If there is a problem **I** become the decision maker about what to do because you won't be able to, Ratchet and that is what will happen."

No one said anything a moment, then finally Prime nodded. He glanced at Ratchet who looked at him and smiled slightly. "This will be all right. Our people have done it for eons and ages. There are femmes at Autobot City who can come and watch. They have already done it."

"Not this way," Ratchet said. "They had it the traditional femme way. I'm sparked but that is a good idea, Optimus. I will make sure it happens."

Prime nodded and asked for the good of the order. The meeting broke up with the silence of the moment so Ironhide walked out, Ratchet's servo in his own. He turned walking to the Medbay, towing Ratchet behind him. Entering the office, he closed the door and turned to Ratchet looking down at him with serious optics.

"Ironhide-" Ratchet began, then Ironhide cut him off.

" **Listen** to me, Ratchet," he said quietly. "You **know** what this sparkling means to me. You **know** how much I love him. I would suffer **anything** , do **anything** , **be anything** I had to be for him. That is what he is to me. But it pales compared to you. If something goes wrong you come first. I **can't** live in this world without you and even if I had our sparkling to be with me, I know it wouldn't be enough." He looked to the side a moment gathering himself, Ratchet's arms encircling him. Then he looked at Ratchet. "Remember after Denver?"

Ratchet nodded, looking at Ironhide with sad optics, stepping closer as he listened.

"You said you couldn't continue without me. Well … I can't without you. Even with a youngling that I love so much, I couldn't stay. You and me … we were **meant** to be, Ratchet. That is how it is."

Ratchet nodded and stepped closer resting his helm on Ironhide's broad chassis. Ironhide encircled him holding him tightly in arms that could crush almost anything into nothingness but were gentle as they held him tenderly.

"I love you, Ratchet. It was a **slaggin' miracle** that we found each other and I don't want that to ever be lost," Ironhide said softly.

"I love you, Ironhide. I hope you know," Ratchet said tiredly.

"I do," Ironhide said. "We get a sparkling in about two orns. It's hard to believe."

"I know," Ratchet said smiling. "It will be alright."

"It **fraggin' better be** ," Ironhide said, the fear just shadowing his voice.

Ratchet heard it and felt sick, squeezing Ironhide tightly as they stood together.

=0=On the tarmac a day later

They began to leave a few at a time. Twos and threes left, going to the jets and shuttles to board. Lennox, Epps and Graham who stood watching from the shade of the awning in front of their building were used to the idea that they went off by themselves from time to time. They would never tell why when they did. This time however Prime gave them a clue.

"We are going to Mars for a religious festival that comes around only once in a long while. We will be taking everyone including the younglings to Mars for it. We will keep in communication with you and we are only forty-five minutes from Earth."

"A religious festival?" Epps asked curiously. "You're celebrating Primus?"

Prime nodded feeling only a small amount of shame at his deception. Of course, bondings and sparkling separations were Primus sent so he wasn't totally lying.

Mostly.

They discussed their communications and the protocols for troops coming back if something went awry. Then he told them that they were locking the embassy and no one would be coming or going for the four days they would be on Mars. Then he told General Morshower. That one only took a little bit more finesse but when it was done he was free, clear and all was go. Gathering up Spirit and holding Rambler's servo, he walked with Prowl who was carrying T-Bar to board Cosmos, taking off into the fading light of day toward the 'festivities' that were going to happen at Autobot City on Mars.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They arrived, moved to the facility, deposited their gear and weapons in the armory and walked up topside to mix and talk, relaxing for the days off that they had carved out for their celebrations. Lodgings were tight but the single mech soldiers bunked together, squeezing each other in, setting up conference rooms and other areas for visiting Autobots who had bonds and younglings.

Ratchet walked to Medbay, Ironhide following and when they arrived, Wheeljack, Perceptor and First Aid greeted them. They moved to a back room and in a box on a counter was the protoform of their sparkling. They looked at it smiling, Ironhide's arm slipping around Ratchet. Ratchet leaned against him, fatigue filling him as he considered that the following morning he and Ironhide would welcome the universe's most beloved sparkling.

=0=That night

Bluestreak stood at the gate staring out at the plain beyond. It was dark, the area looking empty and slightly sinister. Then he looked up to see the stars, the vastness of the universe and felt peace. This was now their sky, their plain, their home. Behind him, light streaming out of windows and open doors, the community gathered and talked, laughed, energized and played. In two days he would be joined in a trine with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker and that would be it for him. The end of the road had a pot of gold he thought. The end of the road that he had no business being on but for Prowl. He stood and looked at the stars feeling happy, fulfilled and peaceful for the first time in a long time. He felt at home.

=0=Late that night

"You can't recharge?"

"Not really. Go ahead, Ironhide. I'll hold you."

Ratchet lay alongside Ironhide, his body half on, half off the big mech. He lay quietly, his arm around Ratchet whose servo gently stroked his chassis. "Are you ill, Ratchet?"

"No, Ironhide. Just tired and a little anxious to hold our little mech."

"You and me both," Ironhide said quietly. It was silent a moment.

"Ratchet?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you so much."

"You are welcome, Ironhide. Thank you for being a sport."

He chuckled. "I am aren't I?"

"The best sport." Pause. "The best mech." Pause. "And pretty soon, the best creator."

"He'll be awesome. I always thought he'd be at the far end of the awesome scale."

Ratchet chuckled. "He will be. How could he not? He looks just like you."

Ironhide snickered. "I had no hand in that."

"No. But at least he doesn't have big yellow circles on his optics."

"No," Ironhide said chuckling. "He doesn't."

Pause.

"Ratchet?"

"Hm?"

"It **would** have helped him with night vision."

=0=Half a joor before separation commences

They sat together on the couch in First Aid's office, Ratchet leaning on Ironhide who had his arm around the medic's shoulders. Prime and Prowl, Ultra Magnus, Jazz and Bumblebee were in the main medbay talking quietly together. In the hallway and corridors outside half the base was there awaiting this most singular moment, the first sparkling born in Autobot City and their new home. First Aid and Wheeljack were in the surgery getting things ready. Perceptor had the protoform and placed it on a table nearby, a soft blanket under it to wrap it in when things were accomplished.

It was quiet and peaceful, then it wasn't. Ratchet sitting up clutching his chassis groaned in pain. Ironhide startled, sat forward too staring at Ratchet in terror. "First Aid! **GET IN HERE**!"

"Ironhide, its supposed to -" Ratchet paused leaning over again, his groan louder this time. A tear fell from his optic sliding down his cheek and he gasped biting his lip.

Ironhide leaned back as First Aid stepped inside taking Ratchet's hand. He gently pressed Ratchet back and unclasped his chest plates, the layers of metallic protection folding back revealing the glory within. A beautiful blue spark was being circled rather quickly by a smaller one appeared. Tendrils of energy snapped and sparkled as the little life form hurried and raced going this way and that as it began the first step of separation. "It looks normal, Ratchet. How much does it hurt?"

"Slaggin' hard, First Aid." Ratchet gasped and cried out, his optics off lined in pain. First Aid closed the clasp and Ratchet's plating slid seamlessly back into place.

Ironhide looked at Ratchet, then First Aid as tears appeared in his optics too as he held Ratchet's servo. "What's happening? Ratchet's in pain, First Aid. What do we do?"

"We wait, Ironhide. I want you to hold his servo and when you feel a pain, Ratchet squeeze Ironhide's servo. Ironhide, count the time between the pains. As the sparkling gets ready to separate the times will be closer. Right now, I don't think we are very close."

"It **hurts** him," Ironhide said nodding. "What about his pain?"

"He needs it. It will tell us when he's ready." First Aid looked at Ratchet. "Did you hear me, Ratchet? You have to squeeze his servo to let us know."

Ratchet, his optics off line nodded. He leaned into Ironhide resting against his shoulder. They all sat quietly, time slowly ticking forward and out in the hallway the tension was slowly building. Ratchet sat leaning against Ironhide, his optics off line, his body as relaxed as he could make it. At nearly a breem, a pain spasmed and he cried out gasping as he squeezed Ironhide's servo tightly.

Ironhide swallowing hard as a tear fell down his cheek held on, his arm tightening around Ratchet. Ratchet pushed against Ironhide's chassis groaning as the pain continued. He gasped and gasped, then it began to subside. First Aid standing in the door with a stricken look on his face at Ratchet's suffering marked the time and then they waited again.

Prime perched half on a counter top stood solemnly, his spark pounding in his chassis as he listened. Prowl stood beside him leaning. He slipped his arm around Prowl and tugged him closer. The others, all of them were solemn as well, the first time of an event so rare and momentus as this, new territory. Some of them were nervous, some looked scared and all of them wanted it over.

No one more than Ironhide.

=0=Medbay, four joors later

Ratchet stood up and walked to the medberth laying back on its soft cushions. It had been four long painful joors and he was nearing the time of separation. The sparkling was moving more urgently, the pains under a minute apart. Wheeljack and Perceptor had put the tray with the protoform on the cabinet next to Ratchet, the distance between the medic and the sparkling's body no more than a turn.

The mood was extremely quiet and tense, everyone in the medbay transfixed by the sight before them. Ironhide gripping Ratchet's servo, gently petting Ratchet's cheek with his digits stood beside him, his optics locked on the medic. For four joors the rhythm was silence, exhaustion, sharp cries and groans. They would build, occur and then ebb.

No one wanted to leave. Everyone wanted to be there when the future joined the present, when the possibility of their species continuing in a real way became a firm reality. This sparkling would be the fourth in their company, the first born here and the eleventh youngster possible in the current population including the sparked mech who sat on a medberth nearby, his arm around his bond mate, the two watching silently with three femmes and their sparklings.

"Ratchet?" First Aid asked leaning down.

"Yes?" Ratchet asked weakly.

"It's time to separate."

Ratchet nodded and turned from his side to his back groaning as he did. Ironhide assisting him looked anxiously at First Aid. "First Aid, if anything goes wrong Ratchet is first. **Ratchet** is the one who is saved."

First Aid pausing looked at Ironhide. "Nothing is going to go wrong, Ironhide."

Ironhide gripped First Aide's arm, holding him. " **Ratchet** is first."

First Aid pausing nodded so Ironhide let him go. He turned and checked his instruments. Taking a glove-shaped set of wires, he slipped them on both his servos checking to see that they fit his digits exactly. They would be the transfer device for the sparkling, providing an electrical net for him to rest in between Ratchet's spark and his protoform. He turned and looked at Ratchet. "You are ready, Ratchet. Your pains are so close together that we need to move now."

Ratchet nodded, his face contorted with pain, his optics off line. He gasped struggling through a piercing pain. He groaned gripping Ironhide's servo tightly. "All right," he whispered.

First Aid glancing at Ironhide paused. "What we're going to do is take the sparkling out and put it into the protoform. All you have to do is hold Ratchet's hand and don't interfere, Ironhide. Do you understand?"

Frightened optics met First Aid and Ironhide nodded. He felt his throat constrict with fright and he swallowed. He nodded again, unable to speak around his fear. First Aid nodded back disturbed by Ironhide's fear, then he leaned down to Ratchet. "Here we go, Ratchet. Okay?"

=0=TBC

 

#112: Sacred

 

NOTE: This is my impression of what would happen. I know there are many great stories and ideas about separating a sparkling. :D You would do well to check them out. Lots of great writers in this fandom.

 

=0=Outside Medbay

The corridor was lined with mechs who had come to wait. There was a miracle going on, one so unknown to most that it was almost frightening. The sounds, the pain and tension, it was fascinating as well as repellingly strange. For most of them this was a first, something attributed to ancient times, so rare that it had become a legend or myth to most. So few mechs had **seen** a sparkling let alone a separation that it was an learning opportunity to the senior Autobots, those charged with keeping their species alive. The moment had been seized, the group gathered and they waited together.

Sitting in the doorway leaning back against Sideswipe, Bluestreak watched. Sunstreaker nervous and attentive sat on the other side. Behind them, standing, pacing, sitting patiently, all the others waited too. Hound sat with Silverbow on his lap. The Prime's mechlings were distributed among the group. All they had to do was wait for the miracle to happen.

First Aid glancing at Ironhide paused. "What we're going to do is take the sparkling out and put it into the protoform. All you have to do is hold Ratchet's hand and don't interfere, Ironhide. Do you understand?"

Frightened optics met First Aid as Ironhide nodded. He felt his throat constrict with fear and he swallowed. He nodded again unable to speak. First Aid nodded in reply disturbed by Ironhide's fear, then he leaned down to Ratchet. "Here we go, Ratchet. Okay?"

Ratchet, his pain intense nodded, his optics off line. Gripping Ironhide's servo tightly, he felt another wave flash through him followed by nausea. First Aid triggered his spark chamber and the metal plating folded back slipping away to reveal the brilliant light of his agitated spark. The sparkling had already separated one of the four long tendrils of energy that had connected him to his carrier. It was flailing wildly, the sparkling flitting this way and that in agitation.

First Aid powered up the grid on his servos, the energy soft and warm, attractive to the sparkling. It paused and settled sensing a safe harbor nearby so the flailing tendril reached out tentatively touching then anchoring itself on the grid. Another groan and another tendril snapped seeking the grid to anchor itself. First Aid waited, the sparkling waited and Ratchet groaned as the little life force gathered itself to leave.

Ironhide, tears slipping down his face watched as he held Ratchet's servo. He wanted it over and he wanted them all safe so half of the wonder was lost to him. Yet this was his sparkling, his youngling, his some day adult mech. This was their greatest collaboration and if he hadn't been so frightened he would have been more aware of how wonderful the moment was.

Prime shifted nervously pulling Prowl closer. They all watched, they all waited and when the third tendril parted Ratchet's loud groan shimmered across their own taut nerves. Shifting tensely, they were all ready for it to be over.

"You're doing great, Ratchet. One more," First Aid said calmer than he felt as he held the little life force in his servos. "One more to go."

Ratchet lying in great tension, his optics off line, his face contorted in pain nodded. "All right," he whispered as another wave washed over him. It was like getting shot in the spark chamber and he groaned, a long low moan as the last tendril snapped.

The sparkling was separated.

First Aid stood still a moment allowing the sparkling to connect with his grid, then he turned, his hands cupped with a little glowing light shining out of them, stepping forward toward the protoform. Perceptor and Wheeljack standing to the side waiting through the separation moved forward turning the protoform and tapping the spark chamber. The tiny plates slid as the chamber was revealed.

Wheeljack manipulated a scanner and the spark core inside began to glow warming to be receptive for the new occupant of the protoform. When it was bright enough he nodded to First Aid who lowered his glowing servos into the tiny chamber. For a moment he stood silently watching the sparkling resting in his hands. Then a tendril, then two, then all the tendrils reached out and touched the spark core which flared as the sparkling accepted its new home.

For a moment there was nothing. Then tiny blue optics opened and looked at Wheeljack, a tiny servo moved, then a leg. It opened its mouth and wailed loudly, its body coming alive with movement. Ratchet lying stricken, waiting for something tried to rise, his chamber still open, his panic widespread. Ironhide pushed him down and First Aid turned triggering Ratchet's plating to close. "Just wait a moment, Ratchet. He's coming."

Ratchet felt tears filling his optics, a sob in his throat as he lay back looking up at Ironhide. "Is he all right, Ironhide?" he managed around his tears.

"He's slaggin' awesome, Ratchet," he said looking over his shoulder at the tiny black sparkling with the three bands of yellow on his little arm. "He's fraggin' above average."

At that remark the spell was broken, everyone in the room relaxing and laughing. Down the hallway through the corridors the relief spread as clapping and cheers began. A new life was born, a new future was made and the hope of their people to survive the hell of their lives was remade.

=0=A few minutes later

Ratchet sat up swaying slightly as he hung his helm, his body filled with nausea and pain. Looking up, watching as First Aid, Wheeljack and Perceptor ran their sparkling's first diagnostic he waited, Ironhide standing nervously beside him. He leaned on the big mech, Ironhide squeezing his shoulders. "You need to lie down, Ratchet."

"I want to see him first," Ratchet said wearily.

When they finished First Aid wrapped him in his blanket and turned holding him out to Ratchet. "No, First Aid. Ironhide holds him first."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet and swallowed hard. Then he nodded and held his servos out taking the bundle to hold it in the crook of his arm. They both turned and looked at it, the familiar face looking back the spitting image of his creator. Tiny blue optics looked at them both and a small arm with a clenched servo lay outside the folds of the blanket. Ratchet took it, squeezing it gently, the blue optics turning toward him. Then he wailed loudly gripping Ratchet's fingers tightly.

"He wants you, Ratchet," Ironhide said turning to hand him off.

Ratchet took him, this most needed and wanted little mech and he kissed his helm, running his digits over hislittle face. The blue optics followed him, the gaze never wavering and Ratchet knew that the little mech remembered that they had shared sparks. "You're right, Ironhide. He is truly seriously above average."

The room relaxed, the mechs and femmes laughing as they stepped forward to see the sparkling. Then Ironhide turned stepping in front of Ratchet and the sparkling. "You can't see him for three days. We have to present him in the naming ceremony."

"Damned Praxian culture," Jazz said with a chuckle. Prowl thumped him with his fist and they grinned at each other as the room felt the return of relief from the tension endured so long.

"Let's all go now," Prime said turning to shoo people. They went grudgingly and when all of them had he turned to look at Ratchet and Ironhide. "You made us all proud, old friends."

Ironhide swallowed hard. "It was all Ratchet," he said.

Ratchet smiled and patted Ironhide's aft. "Don't sell yourself short, big boy. It takes two to tango."

They chuckled and Prime left, walking out to the celebrations that were going on all over the facility. First Aid thanked Wheeljack and Perceptor who left as well, then he turned to Ironhide and Ratchet. Smiling, he rubbed his hands together. "Now comes the hard part," he said.

Ratchet and Ironhide exchanged glances of doom.

=0=A few later

"Hold still, Ironhide."

"Do you think I need this? I mean … uh, what do I mean?"

"Nice save, Ironhide." First Aid glanced at Ratchet with a grin.

A piercing optic impaled him from Ratchet so he shut up and let First Aid fit him with a feeding tube in his wrist interface compartment. Apparently, it was a design affectation to include the Sexy and the Sexy Outcome in the same port space.

"Your energon will be the right consistency and temperature, Ironhide and Ratchet. It will be better than feeding with a bottle for now. He can cuddle and feel secure."

When he was finished and his scan checked out, First Aid reached for and received the sparkling putting it into Ironhide's arms, settling him against Ironhide's chassis. "Now, take the cord and hold it out, tapping the sparkling's mouth with it."

Ironhide did, clumsily pulling the cable and tapping the sparkling. It looked at him narrowing his optics. Then he tapped it again and the infant opened his mouth, the cable slipping inside. He held it in his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, then spit it out. Ironhide looked stricken. "He doesn't like me."

Ratchet grinned. "You **sparkling**. He's **two breems old**. What does **he** know. Try it again."

Ironhide looked at Ratchet who was sitting on the medbay getting his own tube installed. Then he put tried it again. This time the little mech got it. He began to suck on the cord, Ironhide's energon filling his little tanks for the first time.

To say that Ironhide was in love was a small fragment of a statement about the totality of his feelings. He leaned against the berth looking at the infant in his arms memorizing his features, his heft and his bright blue optics ... baby optics that stared and never blinked. "This sparkling **is** above average, Ratchet. Look at him. Got champion written all over him."

Ratchet chuckled, tucking the cord away, sliding the panel shut. "Won't get an argument from me, Ironhide," he said rising wearily.

"You can go to your cabin, Ratchet or you can stay in the visiting medic quarters."

"I thought you were, First Aid," Ratchet said looking at the youngster.

"I have another place to stay," he said gathering up the gear on the table, putting it in a pan for cleaning and storage later.

"You do? Anyone **I** know?" Ratchet asked smiling.

"Yenta Claus," First Aid said. "I heard about you. We hope you find … uh, what is it you said, Ironhide?"

"Your marbles, Ratchet," he said, his optics fastened on the little mech in his arm.

"Yes, your marbles," First Aid said turning to fold his arms defiantly across his chassis.

"So who is it?" Ratchet asked, his focus laser-like and unwavering.

"Go. Rest," First Aid said turning to walk to the door. "Unless someone loses their helm, this place is off limits." With that, he turned and walked out the door.

"He's got someone."

"Let it go, Ratchet."

"I will. When I know who," Ratchet said smiling. He turned pausing to look at Ironhide and the little mech. "Awwww."

Ironhide looked up and nodded. "You did good, Ratchet. I don't know how to thank you."

Ratchet smiled. "You don't have to. But Ironhide?"

"What, Ratchet?" he asked looking up at Ratchet with a look so warm and loving that Ratchet paused a moment.

"Ironhide, when we have a sibling for this one, you carry."

"Not on your **slaggin'** life, Ratchet," he said with a smile.

=0=Bluestreak

They sat in a corridor friends all around celebrating the separation of the sparkling. Sideswipe held him in his lap and Sunstreaker was next to him. Tomorrow, they would be bonded in a simple short ceremony in front of the whole community. It would be final and for Bluestreak, overdue. He smiled and listened, the talking and laughing around him the part of his life that he loved the most.

He had traveled alone in space for a long time before finding Sunstreaker. They had begun the journey to Earth together following the call of their Prime. It had been a slaggin' miracle to find Sideswipe already here. Now they would be joined and nothing short of death could divide them.

The idea of a trine was the only solution because he couldn't divide his feelings. They were both loveable and both loved by him. The logistics of a trine, something most Autobots didn't do was lost on him.

It was a good thing he had screwed up his nerve and gone to speak with a Seeker. He smiled. A good thing indeed.

=0=

 

#113: “Who's your daddy?”

 

 

=0=That night

"You all right?"

"I'm fine, Ironhide."

Pause.

"Can I getcha anything? Energon? A pillow?"

"No, Only One. I'm good."

Pause.

"Do you suppose I should leave the light on or watch him or something."

[grin] "He's probably okay. I don't hear him. Do you?"

[Turn, lean, **listen]** "No. He's recharging."

"Good. Lay back here and keep me warm."

Pause.

"You cold? I'll get ya a blanket."

"No. I just need you."

Pause.

[grin] "Easy. Ask for something hard."

[grin]

=0=At the shebang

Bluestreak danced with Sunstreaker moving slowly with him as Blaster played someone's request. The dance floor was packed and everyone who could be was there. He considered his visit earlier in the day...

=0=Near the Seeker's barracks

He stood nearby looking at the Seekers as they sat in the sun talking. They had noticed him but were ignoring his presence. He recognized them all, the elite Seeker squadron that had done so much damage to them and their Cause. They were here now, refugees and not everyone was happy about it. They were glad the Seekers had given their oaths and the dishonor it would engender to break them guaranteed they would no longer be the enemy. But the spark knows what it knows and it would take longer for the bitterness to fade. Coming here, girding up his courage, he knew he needed to talk. So he stepped forward and stopped before two, Ramjet and Skywarp. They looked at him warily, their optics cold and hard. "What do you want, Autobot?" Skywarp asked.

"I want to talk to you about trines."

Ramjet looked surprised and Skywarp looked neutral, the latter a much more cunning devious mech than the former. "What about?" he asked.

"Trines," Bluestreak repeated. "I am going to be bonded tomorrow and I want to know about trines."

"What's to know?" Skywarp said glancing at Ramjet as he arose and walked inside.

Bluestreak watched him go, the deliberate snub rolling off his back. He had shot the Seeker more than once over the years so they were even in his mind. "We don't have many trines. I don't know what to expect. Enlighten me."

Skywarp considered his request. "You do what you want. You just do it with two others."

"That's all?" Blue asked moving to sit next to the taller transformer. "That's all I need to know?"

"What do you want to know? About 'facing? About orn to orn?"

"Sure," he said leaning back against the wall.

"Whoever wants to 'face, faces."

"And the other one? Do you have to be alone or are they with you or what?"

A smirk formed on Skywarp's face as he looked at Bluestreak. "Either way. The other is going to know anyway. You do understand how a bond works don't you."

"Mostly," Blue said.

"You give up privacy."

"All of it?"

Skywarp thought a moment. "You can keep things from the others if you are good with firewalls and you will become good at building them. If there is nothing that is yours its easy to get lost in the others. You need to save a place that is yours and yours alone. The others should respect that and if they can't learn to firewall."

Bluestreak nodded. "What is the benefit of a trine?"

"Company, 'facing, strategy," he said. "You can have help when the others need it, if they're ill or something needs doing. You aren't left to do it alone unless you want to. Privacy matters but after a while the company counts for more."

"You get along? You don't have problems between you? Jealousy or things like that?" Blue asked considering the volatility of Sunstreaker.

"Sure," Skywarp said. "A bond mate like Starscream is high maintenance. There are jealousies but mostly we work them out. You have to. You live in each others minds. Rancor is a heavy load when you do."

"Are you equals?" Bluestreak asked.

Skywarp snorted. "Of course not." He looked at Bluestreak. "What do you expect? That personalities will be different because you are bonded? No one can be equal to Starscream. He's Starscream. If you are equal now, fine. But don't expect it to be different when you bond."

"So it doesn't help personalities."

"No," Skywarp said smirking. "What they are before, you will be after but you will be connected through the bond and everything will be stronger and closer." He considered things a moment. "The good is good and the bad is worse. You can't truly hide anything but you can have allies in a trine that you don't have outside of one."

Bluestreak nodded. "Thank you, Skywarp." He arose and stood a moment looking at the sky and the stars overhead. "It will be tomorrow. You and the others should come."

"Why?" he asked.

Bluestreak looked at him. "Because we all live here together," he said quietly. Then he nodded and turned walking back to the lights and noise beyond. Skywarp watched him go and sat a moment before rising to walk inside the barracks.

=0=Nearby

"Party sounds like fun."

"You can go, Ironhide."

"No."

Pause.

"Why not?"

"Because you and the sparkling need me. What if you need something? What if he cries?"

"I'm fine and the sparkling is recharging. If you want to go, you can."

Pause.

"I know." Pause. "Do you think he's hungry?"

"He will let us know I think."

Pause.

"Do you think he's too hot? Or maybe he's too cold?"

[grin] "I think he'll let us know, Ironhide."

Pause.

"What about tomorrow?"

Pause.

"We need to take him with us, Ironhide. I also think we need to make sure no one sees him," Ratchet said. "You want to present him so we will keep him covered up. If he gets fussy, I can take him back here."

"I'll come with you."

Pause. [grin] "You don't have to, Ironhide. You can stay and play."

"But you might need something. You might need … something or other."

Pause.

"Ironhide?" [grin]

"What?"

"Did you know that you're above average?"

Pause.

[grin] "If you say so, Ratchet."

Pause.

**"WAAAAAAAAA!"**

**[CRASH! THUD! SCRAMBLE! LIGHTS!]** "He's crying!"

"I noticed, Ironhide. Move and let me get him."

"Don't fall over."

"I won't, Ironhide. You … move a bit and … here."

Pause. [Both peer at little screamer in the bundle.] "You or me?"

"You, Ironhide. Good practice."

[walk. Sit. Pull out plug] "Here ya go."

[Chew.] "Splut."

"He spit it out."

"Try it again."

"Here."

[Chew. Chewchewchew.] "Splut."

[frown] "He doesn't like it."

"Give him a chance, Ironhide. Try it again."

[Tap. Tap. Tap.] "Come on. Open up. You know you want to."

Tiny blue optics narrow and glare. Mouth frowns. [Chew. Chew.] "Splut."

Large blue optics narrow and a **HUGE** pout begins. "He hates me."

"Awww, Ironhide. You poor sparkling. Have you checked the other end?"

Large blue optics get as big as truck tires. "The other end?"

=0=TBC

 

#114: The Ties That Bind, Part Two

 

 

=0=At the moment of truth

Prime turning to Prowl got the nod so he turned again walking outside. Stopping on the top step he smiled noting that their entire company was facing him enjoying the moment together. They stilled and he smiled.

Then that is when it happened.

"What are **you** doing here?"

The voice cut through the hushed assembly and everyone present turned, shocked murmurs passing through the crowd. Standing behind them sparkling clean and silent, six Seekers waited warily.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stepped forward joined by Bluestreak, Prowl gripping him, tugging him back. The three paused as Ironhide intervened and turned glaring at them. "Step back inside. You haven't been called."

"What about that?" Sunstreaker asked scowling deeply.

"I asked them to come."

Prime pausing, turned as surprised as all the others. "What?"

"I asked them to come," Bluestreak replied.

Prime nodded and stepped down, the crowd parting as he walked toward the Seekers. Ironhide and Prowl pulled the three back into the doorway where they stood to watch. Prime walked to the Seekers and paused, nodding.

"We were asked to come," Skywarp said, his voice wary and edgy.

"I know," Prime said smiling. "And you are welcome."

"What?" a voice behind him asked in surprise. A murmur greeted Prime's remarks so he turned looking at the crowd before him. "Bluestreak invited them and I'm sorry myself that I didn't do it first." The crowd became quiet. "Thank you, Bluestreak for reminding us of what we all are, refugees trying to form a community. The Seekers are **part** of our community. As long as we all come here in peace and live together in peace all are welcome." It was quiet a moment, then he turned nodding to Starscream. "You are welcome for the ceremony and celebrations afterward."

Starscream looking at him with a shuttered expression nodded. The others nodded as well. "Until all are one, Prime?" Starscream asked, his voice slightly defensive and sarcastic.

Prime grinned. "Until all are one." He stepped to one side and offered the path free to a good position in the crowd. They hesitated then moved, walking into the crowd with their helms held high. Prime followed them and continued, walking to the steps once more. He turned and looked at the crowd again. Glancing backwards at Prowl's slight smile he turned and began. "Welcome to the moment when Bluestreak, youngling of Prowl of Praxus bonds with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, proxy younglings of Ironhide of Praxus. It is my honor to ask the questions that have to be asked in front of the community that will be their home. When they have been asked and answered, then they will be considered bonded with all the rights, privileges and responsibilities as any similar adult. As Prime, it has been a long time since I was asked to preside over such a gathering and such an event. I am honored to do so and hope fervently that it won't be the last time." He turned and looked back. "I need Bluestreak of Praxus and his genitor, Prowl."

They stepped forward, Prowl stopping beside Prime and Bluestreak stepping down, turning toward Prime to smile broadly. Prime smiled back then turned again. "I need Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and their proxy genitor, Ironhide of Praxus."

A snicker greeted their choice as the three stepped forward, Ironhide stopping beside Prime as the twins stepped down and stood on either side of Bluestreak. They joined servos and waited, Sideswipe with a serious expression and Sunstreaker with an anxious one.

Prime smiled slightly. "And now the questions. Bluestreak, are you prepared to bond with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and have no other before you?"

"Yes," Bluestreak said smiling at Prowl who smiled back.

"Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, are you prepared to bond with Bluestreak and have no other before you?"

Sideswipe nodded and answered quietly. Sunstreaker swallowed and whispered, "yes."

"Ironhide, as proxy genitor for Sunstreaker and Sideswipe do you promise to be responsible for them, to assist them if they need you and to stand by their sparklings as guardian if such need comes?"

"Yes," Ironhide said for the fifth time in his life. The younglings before him were the only ones left living to whom he made this promise, a fact not lost upon him when they asked. Accepting was easy at that point and he did so happily.

"Prowl," Prime said turning to his bond. "As genitor, do you promise to be responsible for Bluestreak, to assist him if they need you and to stand by their sparklings as guardian if such need comes?"

"Yes," Prowl said.

"Let it be known that as bondmate to Prowl, I agree too. Ratchet, as bondmate to Ironhide what do you say?"

Ratchet stepped closer and nodded. "Yes, I agree."

"Ironhide and Prowl as principle genitors have agreed to protect this bond and to step in when the need arises. That is their responsibility to you and your family. Now you have to decide. Do you give freely genitor rights to both Prowl and Ironhide?"

For Bluestreak the answer was easy. For the twins, not so much. Having been through genitor rights once with Prowl it would mean publicly acknowledging the right of either Prowl or Ironhide to step in, separate and control them if something should arise that endangered any of them or their sparklings.

Bluestreak nodded. "Yes."

Sideswipe glancing at Ironhide swallowed. "Yes. I guess."

Snickers from the crowd brought smiles to Prime, Prowl and Ironhide. They all turned and waited for Sunstreaker. He stood and looked at them, at Bluestreak, at Sideswipe, at Prowl. Then he shook his head. "Sure. Yes."

More laughter greeted that remark and as the amusement subsided Prime closed the ceremony. "This is a Primus blessed event, witnessed by all and freely agreed upon. This is now a public record that Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Bluestreak are a bond, that they are adult in the eyes of the community and that a new family is born today. Congratulations," he concluded stepping forward to hug Bluestreak tightly.

Everyone surged forward and hugged, slapped and snarked. The crowd continued onward entering the facility and as they did they congratulated the genitors, Ironhide and Prowl as they passed. Prime and the others, family all accepted congratulations and the goodwill of the community as they filed in leaving six Seekers behind. Prime turned stepping down toward them, Prowl pausing to wait for him.

"Nice ceremony. Simple and to the point. Praxian I believe," Starscream said his expression lost in memory for a moment. "I have only seen this once."

"I have a couple of times but never officiating," Prime replied. "My bond's youngling came to see you apparently."

"He wished to know about trines," Skywarp said.

Prime nodded. "And you told him."

Skywarp nodded. "He is in a superior bond. Not quite the level of a Seeker bond, but better than a duo."

Prime smiled. "I cannot complain about mine. You will come inside."

"I don't think it would be wise. The Autobots are not too happy to see us," Thundercracker replied.

"This isn't about the Autobots or Decepticons. This is about Bluestreak and what he wants. He wants you to come. I think you should."

For a moment they stared at him, unreadable and unknowable. Then Starscream nodded. "I will come for a while. I never had a grudge against Praxus."

Prime smiled. "Good. You can sit at our table."

"You wish to do some do-goodism do you," Starscream said smirking slightly.

"Or maybe I just want to cover your back," Prime said smirking back.

The Seekers paused a moment discussing among themselves what they would do and then they nodded, Starscream moving to walk beside Prime. They entered the party and sat through several joors talking to the Aerialbots and a few others, watching the Autobots and the civilians enjoy themselves. Then they excused themselves and walked away, the first crack in the wall evident in a long, long process of mutual trust.

=0=Nearby

Ratchet sat at a table, the sparkling in his arms. He was recharging and although the music and conversation was loud he wasn't fussing. Ratchet sat with Ironhide who had his arm around the back of Ratchet's chair and a wary optic on all the mechs and femmes who just 'wanted a peek'. No one was going to get a peek until the naming ceremony that would occur in one orn just before the garrison returned to Earth.

"Ironhide," Ratchet said looking at the big mech who was hovering at his side. "Relax. Enjoy."

"I am."

Ratchet smirked. "You are going to throw a rod if you don't relax."

"You can fix it."

Ratchet snorted. "Do you want to go?"

"Not if you don't."

"It's up to me, huh."

"You or the little mech," Ironhide said peering into the tiny gap in the blanket that allowed the infant to be seen. "If he's too tired, we go."

"He's recharging."

"He's a good little sparkling. I would be screaming in his place with all this noise." Ironhide pulled the blanket back a bit and smiled.

"If you want we can go to the cabin and you can hold him," Ratchet said.

"You don't mind?" Ironhide asked, his pleasure at the possibility immense.

"Of course not," Ratchet said rising. "Say goodnight to the boys. Give them 'facing advice or something like a good proxy genitor."

Ironhide snorted and turned walking to the twins who were standing with Smokescreen and Bumblebee while Prime danced with Bluestreak. "We're heading out. Anything you need to know?"

Sunstreaker snorted. "I think we have it under control."

Ironhide snorted back. "Remember who the sparker is here, boys."

They hooted and laughed slapping hands. Then Ironhide turned and walked to Ratchet who was talking to Prowl. Turning Ratchet, they walked out of the room, ran the gauntlet to Medbay and entered. It was quiet and they walked to the back laying the infant on the berth. Pulling the blanket back, they sat on the other berth and stared watching the little mech as he slept.

"That was a nice ceremony," Ratchet said leaning on Ironhide's shoulder.

"It was. Prime did a good job. Kept it light even though it was serious."

"I agree. It was amazing to see the Seekers but that they came to the bash was even more so. I'm glad that Bluestreak asked them. They must feel really cut off," Ratchet said.

Ironhide nodded.

It was quiet a moment.

"Ratchet?"

"What, Ironhide?"

"You know that television in the quarters back on base?"

"Um-hm."

"Doesn't hold a candle to this."

[grin] "I think I like this channel too."

=0=

 

#115: Name

 

=0=

NOTE: Some basic facts about Mars. The temps can swing between +90 degrees to -274. The fact that Transformers can move about in the vacuum of space in complete comfort makes this as a problem moot. The only time they seem to get personal distress is on organic planets like Earth when muck and the like are bothersome. The climate of Mars would be a cake walk. Also, the year on Mars is 600 days so all four seasons are almost double Earth. Mar's feeble atmosphere would not be a problem because with notable exceptions in contradictory episodes, Transformers don't need oxygen to breathe.-Professor Me.

 

=0=Morning

The garrison worked madly gathering up their belongings for the several trips by Aerialbot and Cosmos that it would require to take them back to Diego Garcia. Civilians assisted moving gear and weapons to the air field, helping with morning rations as they chatted and hung around. Several of them had made friends with members of the garrison, two of them romantically so it was sad and glad times for all.

Hot Rod, Cliffjumper, Ultra Magnus and Blur sat in the rec room shooting the breeze with Springer, Kup and the twins. A lot of ribbing was going on and the twins merely smiled. Details would not be forthcoming.

Probably.

=0=Ops Center

Prowl went through the overnight intel and found a glitch. Lydia Nast had made contact with 'High Flyer'. He frowned as he pulled up the entire file for review on the ride home. He sorted through the duty schedules and made corrections here and there. Ultra Magnus would be city manager with Springer as not only security chief of the city but of the planet itself. Hot Rod would stay with the garrison along with Blur, Brawn and Cliffjumper. The hot headed nature of the minicons was not lost on Prowl so he left them here rather than risk a confrontation on Earth with a soldier.

Kup would also stay as Magnus' second, all of them deferring to either Prowl as second-in-command of the entire army and Prime or to Prime alone as civil leader. They would have to hit the ground running when they returned.

=0=Ratchet and Ironhide

They had arisen earlier, fed, cuddled and exclaimed over their sparkling. When they were finished, they took the soldier's blanket and booties and put him into them.

"He looks cute. I never thought much of clothes. Had a cloak once in the army on Cybertron. You know how Sentinel was about the officer's corps."

Ratchet nodded. "I had one too."

"But mostly it was a processor ache," Ironhide said flipping the infant's bootie clad ped with his digit up and down, watching it flop gently. "These are cute though."

"I know. I like the softness." Ratchet smiled and sat beside Ironhide. "You're easily amused I see. You like flipping his ped up and down."

"It's cute. He has such skinny legs and big peds."

"I would say he takes after you but that would be wrong," Ratchet said looking down at his own gangling physique. "He will outgrow that. If you want a warrior you can't have gangling legs. The recoil will tip him over."

"Who says we want a warrior? Maybe he will never know war," Ironhide said, his expression serious.

"From your lips to Primus' audials, Ironhide," Ratchet said leaning on Ironhide happily.

=0=Bluestreak

He gathered his gear, the previous evening rattling around in his processor. He could hear and feel them, a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced. They could feel and hear him as well. They had a lifetime of experience with bonds and this was day one and a half for Blue. It was strange, wonderful, loving and more than he had expected. It was odder and more familiar than he had expected. He wondered if this was how Prowl had felt when he had bonded with Prime. Grinning, he considered the evening prior sitting on the berth that had been ground zero of their amour...

/... oh .../

That was his last coherent thought as Sunstreaker, a merciless expression of hunger on his faceplates scooped him into his arms, turning and falling on the berth together in one swift movement. Bluestreak had stepped back when he entered and looked at them, both of them making clear by their expressions what they needed and wanted from him. At that point he was in the whirlwind and out of any control of the outcome.

Not that he cared at that moment.

Ending up in the cabin, having been scooped up by Sunstreaker and hoo-hawed through the rec room by one and all present, Bluestreak had turned around with pins and needles racing through his circuits when finally set down on his peds. Skywarp had warned him of the special circumstances of a trine as opposed to one-on-one bonding and he was confronting it right out of the gate.

Sideswipe less exhibitionist and more prone to the alien concept of embarrassment than his brother followed them, shaking his head at Sunstreaker's brazenness. What Blue didn't know was the conversation they had all the way to the cabin, the back and forth and the aggravation between the two about what would happen next.

Sunstreaker knew what he wanted but Sideswipe was still off put by the proximity of his brother to his intimacy with Bluestreak. They had often been aware of each others sexier moments but usually dialed them down with only a snark or two shared. But this would be different. This would be intimacy in front of the other and for Sideswipe, the more 'normal' of the two it would be strange in a long life filled with strange.

He stood and watched as Sunstreaker and Bluestreak got down to business finding it oddly erotic in a train wreck sort of way. It had been too long for Sunny and he was rather perfunctory in his approach to scratching the gigantic itch that had been plaguing him for over six decaorns. Moving toward the berth, Sideswipe knelt and stretched out lying down beside them as they tussled. Reaching out, stroking Blue's arm, he marveled at the expressions crossing the smaller mech's face.

He had never 'faced with Blue, had never done more than kiss and hold him. He followed the rules Prowl had laid out for fear that they would be toast if he didn't. It had been torturous for Sunstreaker, himself in a relationship with Bluestreak for some time before Sideswipe had finally confessed. Now it was good to go and he would be able to be with Blue as well, his brother watching most likely. A piercing sense of embarrassed self consciousness flitted through his spark at the thought.

It wasn't very long before the light of Sunstreaker's spark filled the darkened room and with fumbling servos he triggered Bluestreak's own spark chamber. The lights were bright, mingling and combining. Sideswipe could see his own servo in the glow. The light surged, so did the two and with a mingled howl and cry they bonded together as swiftly and as inelegantly as could be expected.

Sideswipe marveling at the beauty of the moment reached out and touched Bluestreak lying offline with his spark chamber open. It seemed to Sideswipe too vulnerable so he tapped the latch and it closed, shutting off the essence of the only mech he had ever loved more than his brother. Sunstreaker offlined and flattened over Bluestreak was beyond his reach so Sideswipe waited stroking his arm and Blue's one after the other.

A call from the hallway caught Blue's attention so he rose and looked out spotting Sideswipe down the hallway. "Blue, you coming?"

Blue smiled and nodded watching as Sideswipe rolled toward him pausing in the doorway. Smiling, he leaned down and kissed Bluestreak softly, his digits stroking Blue's neck gently. "Need to go soon, Blue."

Bluestreak nodded, smiling at Sideswipe lovingly. "I'll hurry."

He turned and walked inside again Sideswipe leaning on the doorway watching. The emotions in his spark filtered through to Bluestreak who paused and looked at him. Blue smiled, the love returned, then he turned again gathering up his gear quickly. Picking up the duffel, he turned and walked to the door where Sideswipe took it and Blue's servo. Together on the first day of their new bond the two walked out to the rec room and the gathering place beyond to return to Diego Garcia once more.

=0=Outside

Ratchet and Ironhide stood together, Prowl, Wheeljack, Perceptor, Prime and Ultra Magnus as well. The community was gathering to go and they turned buzzing with excitement at seeing the first sparkling born on Mars in their community and the fourth overall until Gear Shift separated. Prime spoke briefly with Ironhide and turned, pausing before stepping forward. "You ready to speak publicly, Ironhide?" he asked smirking.

"No."

"You'll be a champion," Ratchet said encouragingly.

"No."

Prime snorted and stepped forward, the crowd quieting down. "Today is a great day for us all. We get to see our newest citizen and hear his name spoken. In Praxian culture all the important things are done in common. All the important things are done together to bind the community together. So it is the duty and honor of Ironhide to introduce us to his sparkling."

A huge rumble accompanied that declaration, Prime stepping back to make room for Ironhide who had stepped up reluctantly. He paused looking out, then turned pulling Ratchet up to stand beside him to the general amusement of all. Turning, his arm around Ratchet he began.

"In Praxus, when a sparkling is separated, the family keeps them from everyone for three orns. I don't remember why," he said shaking his head. People laughed and then he continued. "I don't remember why and that's sad isn't it. We have all our traditions that we're ever going to have right here among us and already they're fading. There had to be a good reason but I can't remember it. How many Praxians are here today?" he asked as three servos went up. "There are five of us. Five. Maybe there are more, maybe more are coming and maybe one of them will remember. I hope so.

"We are all there is for now. We have to remember and observe. My sparkling will remember because Ratchet and I will teach him. He will know about Cybertron even if he never sees it in his lifetime. Its where and who we are. Our world, our identity. That is why Prowl and I want to make our markers with Praxian customs." He paused gathering his emotions. "We do it for those who can't and those who never will."

It was quiet, everyone listening intently including Skywarp who was standing nearby out of view with Thundercracker. They had been walking and paused to watch the garrison get ready to leave, coming upon the ceremony by accident.

"We thought a long time over what to call him. But it always came back to the same name. Our sparkling is going to be called Orion."

Prime listening solemnly startled, glancing at Prowl who was smiling. He looked at Ratchet and Ironhide who were looking at him and nodded, surprised and delighted. The crowd also applauding settled down to listen again.

"When Bumblebee let us know the Allspark was here, the four of us came, Prime, Ratchet, Jazz and me. We didn't save it. But we did find allies, a home and every time one of you hear his call and come I feel reborn. We are here because of leadership, the personal leadership of our Prime. He is our leader, our moral center, our beacon. It was his idea that created Autobot City, his patience and leadership that built the relationship with the humans and it will be his leadership that allows us to be a people again, with a home and the chance of families.

"He was a working mech before he was chosen, a regular mech that the Matrix picked out of everyone else. He was one of us. No one fancy. He is our leader and so we name our son, Orion in his honor so that part of him is never forgotten, the part of him that is us."

With that, Ironhide turned and took the bundle from Ratchet who helped him separate the sparkling from it and turned handing it to Prime. He took it nervously, drawing an 'awww' moment from the crowd and looked at it with delight. Turning, holding it up, Prime showed the crowd who exploded with happiness and shouts.

The sparkling for his part looked at them with round tiny optics, allowing himself to be passed to Prowl who exclaimed over him then handed him onward. All around the crowd he went, the most grizzled soldier and most petite femme holding him, loving him. By the time he reached Ironhide and Ratchet once more his little optics were twirling and he was fussing.

Gathering him into their arms and his blanket, they turned and waited for Prime. He turned from Prowl and walked to the steps pausing on the second one. With a huge grin on his face, he nodded to the assembled crowd. "Autobots! Roll out!" he said and they did, laughing, smiling and saying farewell to all.

=0=tbc

 

#116: On the Way Home

 

=0=Cosmos

They climbed in one after another, Ratchet, Ironhide and the sparkling getting cuts to the front of the line. Behind them the others came walking inside to sit against the hull. Bluestreak and Sideswipe sat together, Sideswipe pulling Blue into his lap with Sunstreaker sat across from them, settling in.

He looked at them, the two quietly conversing on the bond, their words reaching him. They were just chatting, talking about nothing in particular, getting used to each other together. He smiled slightly, the memories of the night before coming to him. As they did, the two paused and looked at him, a momentary flash of embarrassed realization pulsing from both as Sunstreaker acknowledged mentally that he had been present, he had been aware, he had watched.

Sideswipe shaking his head slightly tightened his arms around Blue who was looking at Sunstreaker with an embarrassed smile. He smiled back and erected his first of many firewalls allowing himself and himself alone access to that part of his memory. Leaning back, he watched it all again, that is, all but his part which was lost in the fury of his need.

He had come to his own awareness at some point, lying on his back, his spark chamber closed. He remembered the heat and the intensity of their feelings as they moved together. He remembered Bluestreak in his arms, holding him, making a soft mewling sound. Then it went black. He turned on his side, seeking Blue in the darkness and heard rather than saw them, his brother and Bluestreak together.

He paused and remembered, everything finally coming into place again and he relaxed laying his helm on his crooked arm. Sideswipe lying on the other side of Bluestreak had the gunner in his arms holding him as he kissed him softly whispering how much he loved Blue. It surprised him. He figured that Sideswipe was more the aggressor, the fun and thrill seeker taking charge and having his way. He hadn't pegged him to be gentle and loving in the way he was showing.

They weren't noticing that he was aware of them, the mist of pleasure that formed over Side's processor was a cloud between him and his twin. They made love gently, Blue exulting in pleasure and Sideswipe's gentle touch was something that Sunstreaker had never really seen before. Bluestreak was beautiful and sensual. His door wings quivered reflecting his mind and body, taut like the string on a bow awaiting the right pull, the right tension for release.

Sunstreaker reached out and stroked one, his soft touch sparkling across the sensory net spread over their surface. Blue groaned arching backwards and Sideswipe pulled him closer lost in his own paradise and seeking more. Sunstreaker smiled touching Blue again, marveling at new things, new sights and sounds he was experiencing.

Sideswipe rolled over carefully allowing for Blue's wings and then he paused looking down at the smaller mech. He smiled and kissed him softly. "I love you, Blue," he whispered.

Blue lost in some cloud of carefully stoked pleasure groaned and reached for his face holding it in his servos, looking at him with an expression of want and need and love all mixed together. "I love you," he whispered back arching against Sideswipe urgently. "Please."

Sideswipe looked at Blue, rubbed his cheek against Blue's and then released his panels, the bright light of his spark illuminating the darkness. He triggered Blue's and then lowered himself lying gently on Blue as the miracle began. Sunstreaker watched as the lights converged, blending and twirling together, becoming one. Sideswipe groaned holding himself as still as he could. then Bluestreak arched against him crying out and fading into darkness. Sideswipe followed and then there was silence.

Sunstreaker watching, considered the moment that their life changed forever. Now they were connected. Now they were family. Now they were one.

The door closed and the crew settled chatting together, joking and laughing, the past few orns almost magical to a people so unused to relaxation and celebration. Lift off was gentle, Cosmos moving upward into the thin clouds overhead and disappearing into the vacuum of space. Below, beneath the orange-hued sky Autobot City got back to business.

=0=Ratchet and Ironhide

They sat together, the infant recharging in Ratchet's arms. Ironhide, his arm around Ratchet watched him, his Orion sleeping. Reaching down, he touched the flat little pug nose that mimicked his sire. He grinned. "He's one handsome little sparkling."

Ratchet, looking up at Ironhide and smiling at the unabashed love that he had on his face for his sparkling nodded. "He's a handsome little devil."

"He's got your face, Hide."

Ironhide looked up at Trailbreaker sitting against the hull, Hound and Silverbow next to him and laughed. "And what a handsome face it is."

Everyone laughed and chuckled. Then Silverbow got up and clutching her bear shyly walked to where they sat and bent down looking at the sparkling with curiosity. She pointed clicking her sparkling word for 'what?'. Ratchet looking at her with love and sympathy smiled. "Orion."

Silverbow looked at Ratchet who was holding the infant up closer pulling back the blanket and looked at the infant again. 'What?' she clicked again.

Hound rising and moving closer knelt beside her slipping his arm around her. "Sparkling, Silverbow. Just like you were once. Orion is a sparkling."

She looked at him and then the sparkling, reaching out touched his bootied ped. Smiling, she looked at Hound clicking something no one could understand. He hugged and kissed her looking at the sparkling. "Orion."

She listened to him, then looked at the infant. She paused and then expressed a sound, her attempt to repeat the word. Hound looked at her and said it very slowly. "Oh-ry-un."

She looked at him, her head moving along with every syllable as she struggled to understand him. "I."

Hound smiled. "Close, baby. Oh-ry-un."

She listened and looked at the baby. "I. N."

Hound glanced back at Trailbreaker, a huge smile on his face. Trailbreaker living and dying with Hound too as their daughter struggled to speak smiled back. "Close."

"Very close," Hound said squeezing his femme gently. "Very good, Silverbow."

She smiled at him, then pointed at the sparkling. Hound considered her actions and looked at Ratchet. "I think she wants to hold him."

Ratchet glancing at the tiny femme smiled. He held Orion closer and she smiled widely looking at Hound and handing him her bear. He grinned and took it setting it on the deck. Helping her sit on it, he turned and braced her as Ratchet lay the sparkling in her lap. She put her arms around it holding it and then looked at Ratchet smiling. "I-N."

Ratchet smiled and nodded. "Orion."

Silverbow held the sparkling, gently touching its peds, holding a servo that was tightly balled into a fist in recharge. She touched Orion's nose and giggled looking at Hound with immense pleasure. He grinned back holding her up on the bear as she explored the sleeping infant.

The ride back was different than any they had taken before. It was happy in a different way, the idea of going home. This time there was giggles and infants, the pleasure of watching a tiny femme being openly happy and mischievous, showing herself to the ones who loved her for the first time in a natural way.

The ride home brought the future back to the present and it was missed on no one on the shuttle.

=0=On Silverbolt, Prowl

Prowl and Prime sat together, their mechs playing with wooden toys they had been given at Christmas Surprise by the human femmes. They had small wooden cars that they carried everywhere, their favorite toys their constant companions. They sat together making engine noises as they drove them around the adult's peds in that intergalactic way that boy children do.

Prowl alternating between watching their legal charges playing sweetly and trying to decipher the new intel marveled in some part of his processor at the changes in the past few months. He was bonded, now legal genitor guardian of three small mechs and the genitor and bond guarantor of his eldest who was bonded himself. It was fraggin' wonderful. He smiled at the curse word. His parents would be scandalized. But they would also be astonished that he had 'landed the big one' as Ratchet so eloquently put it. A Prime would make them proud.

Finally.

He pushed them back out of his mind making sure that the negativity that they engendered in him didn't stay. He was a quiet emotionally contained individual that had been searching for warmth since he was able to understand his genitors were not going to give it to him. He had affairs, most notably with Sentinel Prime but they were always unsatisfying.

He was always dating his sire.

They said once in a study you dated and/or bonded with your sire or carrier. One of the other. For better or worse. Worse mostly. He was thinking they were right when Orion Pax came through the door all big and fantastically handsome and was introduced to him as Optimus Prime, the new Prime and 'help him, Prowl, get up to speed, oh say, two orns ago'.

He had been smitten the moment it occurred to him a few orns later that he wasn't a dumb aft, he was a dignified and extremely intelligent individual and **MOST OF ALL! MOST IMPORTANT OF ALL!** He was self assured, confident in his own mechhood and willing to be wrong.

It had been a shock to him that a Prime could be so calm, so kind, so smart and so able. Sentinel had been another matter altogether. He had the ability to project all the same qualities but they were projections. He had an ego that didn't allow for the idea he could be wrong, that there might be others with ideas that could supersede his own in correctness and quality and when he wanted something, he felt he was doing you a favor if you were anywhere near that want.

That is how he ended up with him, 'Mercy 'face Prowl' Sentinel had called his second. He had somehow ascertained that Prowl was married to the Autobots, to the Cause, to doing his job beyond peak ability and uninterested in office gossip, office romance and placating his ego to the degree he required and had achieved with everyone else **but** Prowl. That had thrown down a challenge to Sentinel and he had gone out of his way to be brazen, the seduce him, to humiliate him in front of others in his 'courtship' of the young winger.

Prowl uncertain about being able to keep his job running the show, taking care of soldiers and the Cause eventually gave in and the short and not so sweet saga of 'Prowl and the Prime' began. Sentinel was his second Prime but it was a stock point of his life that he would be gossiped about as 'Prime Stuff', someone who slept with Primes as a matter of course.

He didn't. 

The first Prime he had worked for, Nova, didn't pay attention to him, leaving him the bulk of the essential work but taking his counsel elsewhere. Nova didn't last long fortunately but the rumors did and Prowl knew that was part of what prompted Sentinel's attention. Prowl was a perk some would whisper, usually those with only a scintilla of the talent, ability and raw intellect that Prowl possessed in abundance. So Prowl became even more prim, more proper and more closed off. 

Until that is he gave in and became Sentinel's lover.

He had expected something exciting and different but it was no better than any of the others. That is, the two before him. They were non military, one a politician and the other a businessmech. Both of them were as married to their careers as him and when they moved on to others more advantageous to their career advancements he was glad. Relieved. Completely happy.

Then Sentinel had badgered him and he had given in, hating himself for doing so but ever hopeful that the right mech would come along. He didn't. Not this one. He was egotistical, wanted him around when he needed him no matter what Prowl was doing and was a lousy 'face.

Truly.

As he sat on the deck, it occurred to Prowl that the only 'facing he had ever experienced that wasn't complete crap was with Optimus. He wished at that moment he could dig up all three of his former lovers, Sentinel Prime included and laugh in their faces. Then he pushed that utterly unworthy completely understandable fantasy away into the trash bin for recycling. He had a life now he never imagined. He of course wasn't aware of the other side of the coin.

=0=Optimus

Optimus watched his younglings, newly minted and legally theirs driving wooden cars around his peds. He watched them with fascination, these little younglings that were now his and Prowl's and felt an ocean of contentment settle into his spark. It had taken forever to find this oasis, the family life that he never once expected to have. He was Prime. All the rest came last. His personal needs and desires were at the end of the line. What he wanted for himself, what he needed and dreamed about was last.

Then Prowl came into his life.

The first time he met him at the Citadel in the crush of introductions he had found himself admiring the clean crisp beauty of the one who would be his number two militarily. He found himself pleased that the face he would have to see nearly all the time nearly every day was so handsome, the voice who would be his counsel so soft and mellow.

Prowl had turned out to be 'terribly efficient' as others told him, 'intense', 'damned near infallible tactically', 'cold, uptight, prudish, repressed' and 'ultra 'faceable if you were a Prime'. He found out that almost none of it was true right out of the gate. Prowl was patient, he was thorough, kind, tough, smart as the Pit, gentle and thoughtful. He was the left side of Prime's processor. He was the one who would do whatever was needed until it was done almost to the detriment of his own well being.

Somewhere along the line, probably the second or third orn Prime found himself drawn to Prowl in a personal way that he had never experienced before. That it was love and enormous personal affection, he didn't know. He was as oblivious as Prowl in that department but he had it.

Badly.

He had heard the rumors but discounted them, seeing from Prowl's dedication and devotion nothing to validate them. He was dependable and invaluable and wonderful and sensual and from that moment onward Prime of Cybertron was in love.

Thank Primus for Ratchet and Ironhide being the unholy terrors that they were or he might not be sitting here watching his children playing as he sat beside the love of his life, his Prowl.

The Aerialbot flew onward taking Autobots and civilians back to Diego Garcia. They all streaked together through the endless night of space ever onward to the warmth and beauty of Earth.

=0=

 

Chapter 117: Lydia, The Painted Lady

NOTE: The title of this comes from a Groucho Marx song called "Lydia, the Painted Lady." If you have never watched the Marx Brothers movies, you haven't lived. They are the absolute opitome of daffy and crazy mad humor.

 

 

=0=In Houston, in a high rise, in a snit

Lydia Nast, a tall painfully thin blonde paced in her husband's office. She was what Truman Capote called 'a social x-ray' … thin, rich and socially active in moneyed important civic circles. She belonged to the right megachurch, was active in charities, got her picture taken at the right events with the right people and got her children into the most exclusive private schools. Her gigantic McMansion was in Architectural Digest along with their 'cottage' in Aspen.

She was at the top of her game, equally as savvy and calculating as her husband who was missing. She was convinced he was missing. He had not been home for the holidays, the height of the season in their set and therefore she had been forced to go to the parties with an alternate, her father of all people, explaining to their 'friends' that 'Bill was busy'.

He had not done more than send the usual e-mails that they had to let each other know that things were well and not to worry. But it felt off. 

Strange. 

Worrisome.

She had made the calls, waited a decent interval, then headed for the office determined to get answers. His secretary was no help. The usual communications were in order. The partners weren't helpful and a couple weren't available. She was on her own. So she locked herself in her husband's office and turned it upside down as she searched everywhere and everything for a clue. Sitting at his computer, his personal list of passwords and codes in hand from the place in his office he had told her he hid it, she began to read.

-0-

To: Nast

From: High-Flyer

I have not heard from you. I am disappointed that the rendezvous in Oregon wasn't successful. I am very, very unhappy. I expect you to answer shortly or we shall have to take steps. You do not want that, Nast.

High-Flyer

-0-

She considered that, the threat that was implied and worried more. Opening another, she continued.

-0-

To: Nast

From: High-Flyer

Good to finally hear from you. I have made contacts with my 'friends' and the package you want is not out of reach. We can make arrangements but you have to do something for me. I want you to meet with me. I will make the arrangements and plan for security. All you have to do is arrive. I want you to remember our other partnerships, the 'deals' and consider how disappointed I will be if you do anything but come. I am awaiting your reply.

High-Flyer

-0-

Lydia felt fear rumble through her. Did he not show up? Did he show up and get killed? Where was he? 

She continued.

-0-

To: Nast

From: Inside Man

I haven't heard from you in a few days. The prize hasn't been seen for a while, neither of them. They must be inside. However, there are others. More come everyday and there are children. Children might be interesting. Let me know. I am trying to find a way to smuggle out images but the security is so tight around here its like living inside a maximum security prison. If 'D' can take them out himself, let me know. I can give them to him. I doubt that he had the same security routine as the rest of us.

Inside Man

-0-

She thought about this, wondering who the children were and where this secure place was. Who was 'D'? What kind of deal was Bill doing that required him to deal with children? It settled uneasily in her stomach and so she continued.

-0-

To: Nast

From: High-Flyer

I am arranging the meet up. Come alone. I personally guarantee your safety. I think a face-to-face will do us all good. I want a long term partnership with you, Nast, that is mutually respectful. Your long term goals more than mesh with ours. I will send the times and place in a week. Until then, stay in touch and keep low.

High-Flyer

-0-

Then another e-mail from 'Inside Man' over something so strange that she began to get a glimmer. 

"Robots.”  

To: Nast

From: Inside Man

I haven't heard from you yet but you might want to know that the robots are going some place together for a few days. Apparently there is some religious festival going on and they have to leave the planet to celebrate it. Sounds scary. Anyway, will let you know when they return. The account is looking good. Thank you.

Inside Man

-0-

She sat, a list of e-mails waiting to be opened and wondered again what sort of trouble her husband was in. She sat and looked at the list dreading them even as she continued opening them one by one and finding less comfort in their contents as she read.

=0=Diego Garcia

They landed and off loaded, taking their gear and their cheer with them into the facility. Optimus, Prowl, Jazz and Ironhide walked to Ops Center as Ratchet and Orion turned toward Medbay. Ironhide looking at them go with longing followed his Prime and the alpha crew into the command center walking to Teletraan II. Pausing, Prowl turned and began to brief them on the intel that had been gathered so far, a couple of pieces answered back already on behalf of their brig prisoner, Nast.

"Lydia Nast is looking for her husband," he said. "Somehow, she is aware that something is wrong and has been seeking answers both inside the business and online. Here is a brief outline of the correspondence that has piled up during our absence."

Prowl explained as he showed the e-mails that High-Flyer wanted a face-to-face with Nast and was going to send the meet up coordinates in three days. There were e-mails from their mole, Inside Man who had talked about sending images out and mentioned the children as possible targets. That had brought them to a halt. It was silent as a tomb as they considered that 'option', the theft and dismantling of their younglings and sparklings. It was bad enough to discuss adult mechs but the children was pause making even for them.

"I want to be there when these fraggers are netted, Prime," Ironhide said softly.

"You and me both, Ironhide," Prime said quietly. He nodded to Prowl to continue and the pensive winger did.

"Apparently Shockwave has picked up Starscream's ball and is running with it. He wants to see Nast and the next two e-mails show that he wants to meet up with Daniels and Galloway too." He turned and ran them.

-0-

To: Galloway, Theodore

From: High-Flyer

I am delighted that you got my contribution to your election fund. It is a joy to be able to support a candidate who is so in tune with my own personal values and beliefs. I have been in touch with Daniels. Thank you and the Senate Majority Leader, Sam Daniels for the contact. I really like that young man and see a great future for him in politics. Our country needs more like him. I would love to meet up with you and Daniels soon. It would be good to see each other and talk.

I will let you know when and where. My schedule is pretty full but I will clear the time for both of you. I want to help you succeed. Take care and good work.

High-Flyer

-0-

The second email was between Daniels and Galloway.

-0-

To: Theodore 'Ted' Galloway

From: Jason 'Jase' Daniels

Good to hear from you. Haven't heard from Nast. Apparently, he's gone underground to do something for High-Flyer. Don't know what it is but I will find out. I have an 'inside man' and he 'works' for Nast. Ha-ha. Little does Nast know.

High-Flyer wants a meet up and I will try and be there. Right now, the Autobots have left the planet, going somewhere to do something 'religious'. I have a big picture of that. Religious robots. Machines with souls. Impossible.

Right now, the children are out of sight. You don't see them except at night once in a while when a couple of them will bring one out and walk around. I hear there may be another one, a baby. Don't ask me how it can be. Maybe they open a can and pull one out. Robots fucking is beyond me. Having babies? Lord help us all.

The base is waking back up and the robots are back, all of them coming back together this morning. I watched them and there seems to be even more than before but that could be that they haven't been out much in one bunch ~new rules~ and I could be seeing the same ones somehow.

Don't know. Just know I'm sick of this place and will be glad to be shut of it. Glad my Dad and Grandpa can be of service to you and High-Flyer. What are friends in high places for if not to use that power toward things you want. I haven't heard from Nast in a while. Try to contact him. He's a major player in the money game and will be a good one to ask to have his employees kick into your campaign fund. I will try to find out what I can here. We don't talk. The robots hate me and I hate them. They're still harassing my men but the base is on their side so we have to take it.

Can't wait until they go. When High-Flyer sends you the time and place, let me know. Until then, ever soldiering onward,

Jase

-0-

They digested that, then Prowl played the last most current one.

-0-

To: Jason 'Jase' Daniels

From: Theodore "Ted" Galloway

Got your e-mail. Didn't know about the child. If you can get me information I could use it to my advantage. The idea of them breeding, a concept that I struggle with too will be a huge wedge issue for me in my campaign.

I will be ready to meet with High-Flyer and will let you know if I hear from him first. I hope Nast is there too so we can get together on strategy. His money and our smarts. We can't fail.

I would try and provoke more incidents with them if you can. The car 'accident' and the other events, especially the brig thing will work in our favor in the long run. Doesn't matter what the reports say. It can be spun.

Try and keep the mole digging. I want as much as I can. The polls here are beginning to resonate and I want to keep the negatives coming. Especially anything on the sex angle and anything on gender. I want to know more about the gender angle. Homosexuality is the ultimate wedge issue and will put me over the top if I can show that our 'friends' the Autobots are homosexual in their practices no matter the idea of infants. Its all about impressions, Jase. Don't let me down.

We have a winner.

Ted

-0-

"Frag 'Ted' to the Pit. Frag all of them," Ironhide said, his voice filled with menace.

They all nodded. Prime was silent a moment, then turned glancing at the comm center. "Its time to reply," he said nodding to Prowl. "Let them know that Nast is up to a meeting and that he would love to be there. Let Shockwave … High-Flyer know that we're on his side. And as for the mole, Inside Man, I want him shadowed. Have Mirage follow him during the times he's awake until further notice. Report even the most trivial things. And I want the younglings hidden from view. They don't come out at any time of the day for any reason. We have to protect them with everything we've got."

"They still are interested in Springer and Arcee," Jazz replied nodding.

"They are. They will stay at Autobot City." Prime looked as grim as they had ever seen as they waited. "Maybe its time we think about how we can meet up with Shockwave. Plan B, Prowl," he said. "I want plans on our plans. I want teams ready to roll for combat at a moment's notice. Have them in place. Even if we don't use them we will be prepared."

They nodded and then turned walking to their stations to make it all happen. Ironhide and Prime watched glancing at each other. "Ironhide, you protect our children," Prime said. "That is all you have to do on base from now on."

Ironhide nodded and turned walking to the youngling play room and the guardians inside. Then he went to Medbay, to his own sparkling and Ratchet to deliver the latest threat personally.

=0=Medbay

He walked in looking here and there, noticing that it was empty but for Ratchet who was looking at datapads, Orion asleep in a cushion lined box on the couch nearby. Ironhide kissed Ratchet's cheek and turned to the infant with tenderness as he lay on his back recharging, the little booties still on his peds.

"Shockwave has taken over as High-Flyer," Ironhide said, his optics fixed upon his sparkling. "He wants a meet up with Nast, Daniels and Galloway."

Ratchet paused putting down the datapad. "I'm not surprised. He wants to sink in the hooks."

Ironhide nodded. "The mole is working for Daniels too, not just Nast."

"Nast is going to be unhappy when we tell him," Ratchet said smirking. "What's wrong?" he asked pausing as he studied Ironhide. "There's something wrong."

Ironhide nodded. "They're talking about the younglings and our sparkling as targets."

For a moment Ratchet didn't move or speak, then he jerked, reaching down and picking up his sparkling, holding him closely as he turned shocked and stricken optics on Ironhide. "What?" he gasped moving closer to the big mech.

"Nothing is going to happen to our younglings or Orion. Prime gave me the job of protecting them," he said turning to Ratchet. "Nothing, not even Unicron will lay a servo on them. I promise you, Ratchet."

Ratchet looked at him, then down at Orion who was looking back at him with bright blue optics. He looked at Ironhide and nodded. "I'll help you," he said quietly, as filled with conviction as he could have ever thought possible.

=0= 

 

#118: Binky

 

NOTE: Some of the next few will have more experimental styles of writing, conversations with stage-type directions that I've used before because I like the reader to fill in the background details themselves in their minds eye. I will also be letting Orion's point of view pop up from time to time.

 

=0=Medbay

He stood sorting out instruments, concentrating on the task at hand when he felt rather than saw the gaze of someone upon him. Pausing, he glanced up and jumped shouting, tools flying. Sitting at eye level perched on two big black servos a little sparkling sat watching with unblinking blue optics as his carrier flew apart. The servos were attached to black burly arms that disappeared into the doorway. The Sparkling sat on the servos hovering at 15 feet in the air as if floating.

"What the frag?" Ratchet cried out, servos on hips. "Ironhide?"

A big grinning face peered around the corner of the doorway looking at Ratchet alongside a small slightly confused sparkling. "Hi, Ratchet. Orion wanted to say hi."

"Hovering him at eye level without a warning is not hello," Ratchet said taking his infant with a smile. "I nearly drew down on you. It could have been goodbye." He smiled at the sparkling, hugging and kissing him, cuddling him against his cheek. Then he looked at the big swaggering goof ball leaning against the doorjamb with a smirk on his face plates.

"Tell me he isn't the cutest sparkling you ever saw," Ironhide said taking him back, tucking him into the crook of his arm.

"Won't get an argument from me," Ratchet said grinning. "What have you two been doing? Guarding us from the slaggers?"

"Language, Ratchet," Ironhide said moving to sit in Ratchet's chair, setting the infant on Ratchet's desk. He was wobbly and Ironhide steadied him with his servos. "We've been practicing our stealth moves."

"Hovering him at eye level around the corner of doors is a stealth move?" Ratchet asked moving to sit in a chair across from them.

"One of the better ones. We just made it up," Ironhide said smirking. "This sparkling has skills."

Ratchet chuckled. "I see that he has. Did you wash your servos?"

Ironhide frowned. "He's been doing that all morning. Sucks on my digits and any place else he can reach. What's that all about, Ratchet?"

"I don't know. I think they do that for comfort. Did you feed him?"

"I did."

"Did you empty his little bottom?"

"I did."

"Feed him again, Ironhide. He might be needing more."

[Opens panel, tugs cord] "Okay, spud, open up." [tap, tap, tap]

Pause.

"Try it again." [grin] "I love his little frown." [medico in heaven]

[Tap, tap, tap] "Open up."

[Little blue optics narrow] "Chew, chew. Splut."

Pause.

[tap, tap, tap] "Chew, chewchewchew. Splut."

"I don't think he's hungry, Ironhide."

"But he's chewing on me. It feels … uh, odd."

Pause.

"Did you wash your servos?"

"Not lately."

"Ironhide, you don't want that sparkling chewing on something that might have gun oil on it, or whatever slag you stuck your mitts in?"

"Language, Ratchet."

"I'll give you language. Go wash your servos or … wait a minute."

[Walk, walk, walk. Pause. Rummage. **FIND**!] "I found this in the duffel from Autobot City. A femme gave it to me and told me I would probably need it." [Sits. Holds out object. Both stare. Sparkling stares.]

"What is it?"

"You put it in their mouth and they suck on it. Gives them comfort or something. **AND** I might add it will lower the level of toxic waste he has in his mouth at any one time."

"What do you do with it?"

"You put it in their mouth and they suck on it."

[Take, tap, tap, tap] "SUCK!" Pause. "Suck, suck, suck. Splut. Pllf."

"Wow. He really doesn't like it, Ratchet."

"Maybe it doesn't taste good. Stick it in your armpit, Ironhide, then give it to him."

[piercing optic] "I will have you know we both went to the wash racks this morning."

" **AND YOU DIDN'T GET ME?** "

"We were bonding."

"Bonding, my aft. Ironhide! Get me when he does his first stuff or I'll beat you with a hammer!"

"See? Your carrier is a loon."

Tiny blue optics look up at sire, then over at carrier, then back at sire, over at carrier, sire, carrier. Then tiny blue optics close as sparkling wobbles from dizziness.

"Try it again. He looks in a weakened condition."

"So we exploit him when he's most vulnerable? What kind of carrier are you?"

"The best kind. One only has to look at you to know I'm slaggin' good at raising sparklings."

"Ha-ha. And language."

"Put it in his mouth, Ironhide."

[Tap, tap, tap] "Suck."

They both watch breathless. He watches them warily. "Suck. Suck."

"It looks good, Ratchet."

"Splut."

Pause.

"I think he hates me."

"You **big sparkling**. He's only **five orns old**. How can he like or dislike anything?"

[tap, tap, tap] "Suck. Sucksucksuck."

Pause.

"Sucksucksuck." [grin]

"He **likes it**."

"Good, Ironhide. You will be glad some night when he won't sleep and just needs comfort and I will be glad I won't have to use clorox on his little pie hole because he sucked on your thumb and got something deadly in his mouth."

"I wash."

[Piercing optic.]

"Most of the time."

"Uh-huh."

"We visited Uncle Optimus."

"You did? How did that go?"

"He really likes sparklings but he gets nervous when Prowl holds him. Even with four younglngs, Prowl likes sparklings and gets that look."

"What look?"

"The one you got."

"What look did I get, Ironhide?" [Pauses. Fixes Only One with 'that look']

"The one that said, 'I need a sparkling and I don't care who I kill,' the one that made grown mechs cry."

"Awww. Did I make you cry?" [grin]

"You did." [Grins at sparkling] "Your old carrier made me cry."

Tiny blue optics regard him. [grin]

"He grinned at me."

"He can't believe his sire is such a doofus."

"Doofus, another word for Chaos Bringer."

Pause.

"Actually, Ironhide, I think you're right." [Snort]

Pause.

"Let me rephrase that."

"How are the younglings?"

"They're good. No one goes outside until further notice."

"I want to be there, Ironhide, when these people are arrested."

"You and me both, Ratchet."

"He needs his nap now, Ironhide. I left his little blankie in the bed in the cabin."

"Blankie?"

"Blankie. Oh, and the thing in his mouth? It's called a binky."

Pause.

"Our little sparkling has a binky ... and a blankie?"

[grin] "Yes, Ironhide. Unless that's not macho enough for you."

"I'm not going there with you, Ratchet. I usually end up with a crow bar across the kisser."

"I won't swing for your kisser. Uh, what about a little kissie-kissie later."

"I'm supposed to be on duty for the younglings. How can I go and have some kissie-kissie with you, Ratch?"

"They take naps too. Don't they? You're the one in charge of them. You **do** know that makes you a glorified babysitter."

"I don't think the average babysitter carries cannons, Ratchet."

"True, but I don't think the average babysitter is a chaos bringer either."

"No," Ironhide said rising, a smug look on his face. "I am probably the only chaos bringing babysitter on planet Earth."

"You probably are. I don't think even google will tell us otherwise."

He grinned and tucked his sparkling into the crook of his arm. "Indupitably."

Ratchet grinned. "Where are you going now?"

"I'm going to show him the armory and see what his preferences are for ordinance."

"Ah, another bonding venture."

"Sure," he said, pausing by the door. "If you want us, we'll be in the grenade aisle." He turned and walked out the door with his sparkling. Ratchet smiled as they left.

"Anyone else but me would slap your aft for that, Ironhide. You don't know how good ya got it, you slagger," he said, rising and walking back to the counter.

=0=In the corridor

"There he is! **So cute!** … what's that in his mouth?"

"That's his … uh, his binky."

"Binky?" [grin]

"Yeah. Binky." [frown]

"Oh." [smirk]

Ironhide watched the mech walk away, his frown deepening even more. Looking down at his little sparkling, his binky moving as he sucked on it, his tiny blue optics never leaving his sire's face, he grinned. "It may be a binky but you suck it like a champion. Those slaggers don't know what they're thinking."

**"LANGUAGE, IRONHIDE!"**

He turned and saw Ratchet poking out of the Medbay, grinning. He grinned back and turned, walking toward the armory and the 'big boy toys'.

=0=

 

119: Mirage and the Mole

 

=0=Near the Administration Building

He walked out from his duties sauntering over to the mess hall. He was happy. Things were going his way. Daniels paid well and so did Nast. Daniels knew about Nast but Nast didn't know about Daniels. Playing both off against each other was good business. He was making a nest egg against the future, Nast was going to give him a job when his enlistment was up shortly, a position that would only enhance his value to Daniels and he was going to have the life he always wanted.

No harm, no foul.

The sun was warm on his face and he made his way with a smile. Behind him unseen and unheard Mirage followed standing close enough to watch and hear anything and everything. He had been given the brief to be Inside Man's shadow. Day and night, every moment he was awake, Mirage was there.

Entering the building and joining three other soldiers he walked in for lunch. Nearby, sitting on the ground in an out of the way spot Mirage waited invisible to everyone but Primus.

=0=Inside

They sat together eating lunch as they talked. Four young soldiers from a cross section of America, they enjoyed each others company. He was merely the guy from Idaho, a guy who loved to fish and hunt, hike and camp. Entering the military was what his family did, sending soldiers to the services since before the Civil War. His family was hardworking and decent, wanting everything for their kids. 

He was the youngest of four, the fourth one to enter the service and the first one to put his asperations higher than a good job in a profession that would allow weekends off and an income great enough for the ubiquitous boat and pick up truck his family favored. None of the others would conceive of what he had done but none of them wanted what he wanted. He wanted what he wanted **now**. Not later. Not in the next life.

**Now**.

They chatted about life back in the world and wondered what people would think about the sights here.

"These guys are something else. I wish we could take pictures. I would love for people back home to know that I'm hanging out with gigantic thinking robots," a boy from Cincinnati said smiling. "Can't find this shit in the old neighborhood."

"No," Inside Man said. "I think if more people could see them and know them they would love them. I do. I respect them. Some of them more than others. The twins … those two are just … dangerous. But I like Sideswipe. He's easier than Sunstreaker. I think if Sunstreaker accidentally stepped on you he would just shake you off and keep going."

The others nodded. "I love the way they roll. Their design is awesome. Have you seen them corner? I've seen Sideswipe turn on a 70 degree angle. No one should be able to stay upright," a young man from California said.

"His gyros must be awesome." Inside Man considered that. "There are people out there that would pay unlimited money to have one of them and take them apart."

"Parasites," the youngster from New York said with a sneer. "They would take them apart and make weapons and sell them to our enemies. We would end up being fried by laser cannons and melted by plasma weapons. Parasites."

"You don't believe in the free enterprise system?" Inside Man asked with a grin. "Someone's gotta make the stuff that people want to buy and someone's gotta get the designs to do it."

"By taking an Autobot apart?" the New Yorker asked. "By betraying an ally and killing them so some corporation gets to sell weapons to our enemies to kill us? Man, what's the matter with you?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sayin' its right. I'm just sayin' it happens."

"If someone lets it happen," the New York kid replied. "These guys are our allies and the fight like … machines," he said with a grin. "Pun intended. I like them. I love watching them. I only wish I could drive them. Have you ever seen so many sweet rides in one place at one time ever?"

"No. I love those Lamborghinis. But they scare the shit out of me. I have been reading up on them," the kid from Cincinnati said. "That yellow Lambo can go from 0-60 in 0.2 seconds. **SECONDS**!"

"I love the Camaro. I love muscle cars. And the Ferraris, the Ligier is sweet and the pickups. I love the Topkick pickups," the kid from California said. "The green and yellow one isn't around much but the black one … he's just badass."

"Yeah," the kid from New York said. "Optimus … he's just so big he needs the truck alt form. Peterbilts are my favorite truck design. I like Macs but I think its because I like the bulldog hood ornaments."

"Prime has an Autobot head for his," Inside Man said smiling. "I like looking for the designations. They all have them but you have to look."

"I like figuring out what they can do," Cincinnati said. "I hear that they can see for miles; some of them can make force fields and one of them can be invisible."

"Invisible?" Inside Man said surprised.

"Yeah," Cincinnati said. "That blue and white Ligier … he can be invisible."

"No shit?" Inside Man asked astonished.

"No shit," Cincinnati said. "It's a Ligier JS 43 and it won its formula 1 racing circuit in 1996. Vintage, elegant, class all the way."

Outside, Mirage smiled nodding. /... classic … elegant … class … I like you, Cincinnati boy .../

"Invisible," Inside Man repeated softly almost to himself. Then he rejoined the conversation again.

Outside, analyzing the conversation Mirage came to the same conclusion that Inside Man did. He was a valuable commodity and the mercenaries who wanted one of them might find him among the most valuable.

=0=In Ops Center

:Jazz here:

:Hello, lover. I'm following our prey and he seems infatuated with my invisibility:

Pause.

:How do ya know?:

:One of the more astute soldiers was talking about my classic elegant and most classy alt form and mentioned that he thought I might have that capability. Inside Man seemed smitten. Deeply:

Jazz grinned. :He has good taste:

:I agree: A smile reached Jazz even though he couldn't see it and he returned it in kind.

:I'll tell Optimus:

:Good. They're coming out. See you later:

:Count on it. Jazz out:

Mirage arose and watched as the small creatures walked out of the building. Two went back to the Administrative Building and two including Inside Man turned and walked toward the Autobot HQ. He followed to one side pausing to let them catch up but he didn't miss a single word. Inside Man was talking to the California boy about cars.

Outside the Autobot Embassy cars were lounging in the sunshine. Most of them were exotic and built for speed and endurance. All of them conformed to the limitations imposed by the height and mass of the Autobots that inhabited them. None of them were chosen for prurient or speculative reasons. All of them were fast, big, well made and enhanced. None of them were street quality vehicles, even the Topkick trucks that big bruisers like Ironhide chose or the Hummers like Ratchet. All of them were enhanced and with speeds sometimes triple what their normal counterparts could manage they were devastating in combat and could endure well past that of normal configurations.

They stood and admired them, walking as close as they dared and for a moment it was as if two kids were admiring great cars at a show. But in the back of Mirage's mind they or at least one of them were predators checking out the prey. When Bumblebee drove up and roared to a stop getting hooted at over the internal comm link that no one but Autobots hear, they paused and looked, walking toward it as Sam and his mother and father got out dogs in hand.

Calling out they came up and introduced themselves, a friendly conversation taking place. As they did Bumblebee transformed and taking leave walked inside. The two soldiers watched him with admiration, the fabulousness of his gleaming yellow alt form still glowing in his root configuration. His parents excused themselves and began to walk to the barracks where N.E.S.T. HQ was. Sam stayed with the soldiers through the rest of the afternoon and by nightfall had found two new friends.

Mirage, making note of that considered if it was an asset or a loss. He would leave it up to Prowl and Prime. They would know. By the time it was nightfall the soldiers retired and Mirage was off duty until sunrise. He turned and walked to the HQ to debrief and spend the rest of the night with Jazz.

=0=Sam and Inside Man

They walked along the beach talking about home. Both were western boys, both loved hot cars, both had girls that they cared about a lot. Inside Man liked Sam personally and enjoyed his company but Sam was also tight with the Autobots, being chauffeured around by one of the hottest full time. He didn't know why. Something to do with the Allspark whatever that was but he also knew he was the inside track for him to gather intel.

They talked about everything and by the time they got onto the subject of the Autobots Sam was comfortable and ready for friendship with someone besides his parents, his car and a couple of the other soldiers who were officers and busy. Being trapped on the island in the name of personal security had been hard and after nearly three months 'captivity' he was ready for diversion.

"What are they like?" he asked looking up at the stars overhead.

"Fine. Normal. They're alien but familiar." Sam sat ironically on the stones that the Autobots used for their parties watching as the Pegasus constellation shifted overhead.

"But they're aliens," Inside Man replied. "I love them but they're alien. How do you relate?"

Sam considered that question and smiled. "I don't really. I just do." He paused. "They make more effort to relate to us than we do to them. I find them mostly very comfortable because they take time and effort to learn about us, how to speak to us, what to do. I really have had to adapt so little that I didn't even notice it until you said something. I mean, I know they're aliens and can transform and all that. I mean, my **CAR** is an alien. But the day-to-day relating? I have had to do so little because they have already done so much."

He nodded. "I like them. I admire them. I hear one of them can be invisible."

Sam nodded. "Mirage," he said unwittingly. "He's the formula one car, the Ligier. He's sort of hard to know. Hangs with Jazz. But he can be invisible. I've seen him do it. It's the coolest and weirdest thing I've ever seen."

"I would love to be able to do that," Inside Man said with a smile.

"Me too," Sam said laughing as he stood up. "Let's go down here," he said pointing to a stretch near bigger rocks. "Its cool."

Inside Man nodded and the two turned and walked onward. They didn't know they weren't alone. They didn't know that Hound was nearby shadowing them, listening in and recording every word. It bothered him that the enemy had managed to unwittingly co-opt Sam, their Allspark but he knew it wasn't Sam's fault. He was on their side. He was one of them. They would protect him the same as they would any other Autobot because to them he was one too.

=0=Morning

The twins rolled out moving toward the firing range. They rolled slowly soaking up the sun and admiring the shine on each others bodies. The night before had been rowdy and after whooping it up and a fling with Bluestreak they had decided to buff each other to the nth degree. Bluestreak, half in the bag and smiling over the idea of two beautiful Autobots enamored in amour over his body and soul lay in a stupor of satisfaction as they waxed and buffed him to a mirror finish. Falling into a stuporous sleep he wasn't aware that they did the same to each other until morning when the glare nearly blinded him.

"You two are too pretty," he said, walking down the corridor to the rec room and breakfast. "Honestly, I'm blinded by your beauty."

They both preened and smirked, their servos gripping Blue's and when they finished breakfast, Bluestreak heading for duty in the Ops Center, they decided to shoot something up 'fraggin' good' at the firing range. It was getting warmer and the sky overhead was devoid of clouds for once. Passing the merc's barracks they smiled as those sitting outside got up and went in, giving up ground at the sight of the two most feared Autobots among them.

**"FRAGGERS!"** Sunstreaker called out pausing before the barracks. He bent and looked into the windows. **"FRAGGIN' COWARDS!"**

He laughed aloud and turned rolling with his brother who glanced back and saw faces in the window. He turned and rolled backwards, his blades slipping in and out of his wrist guards. **"SLAGGERS!"**

Turning, laughing, they continued on and blew up a number of targets for about an hour. Inside the barracks nine mercs watched them including the four who had left the patio when they hove into view. It was sobering to watch them, killing machines without an ounce of fear.

They didn't know they were half in the bag, having celebrated their 'second decaorn anniversary' with the mech who was their trinemate. They would never know that. That part of their life was theirs. The mercs would know a lot about them. They would know that the twins were among the fiercest creatures the universe had thus shown to exist, that they were fearless and violent in a controlled explosion sort of way and that nothing a human could do or show would ever slow them down if they had to protect someone.

They wouldn't know that they were serious about protecting the Earth, that even if Sunstreaker didn't care for humans he would never hurt one without orders or a fraggin' good reason. That Optimus Prime considered them true blue and valiant. That they obeyed their commanders in combat, that they were prepared to sacrifice themselves for others, that they would cheat to win and that Bluestreak was the love of their shared and individual lives.

They would never know that. They would however know that to frag with one of them was a very, very bad idea.

As they rolled past giving hard looks of hatred to the barracks 'just because' the mercs counted their blessings. Given their behavior and even their orders to pick their moments to disrupt they were all lucky to be alive. Mirage, sitting nearby listening to Inside Man chat with his duty mates found himself smirking at their comments. /... if you only truly knew .../

=0=TBC

c2010

 

=0=Note to readers

 

This is a place holder notation because I accidentally posted one part twice. This story is my magnum opus and I appreciate you here. I will continue with 121 as the next part using this as 120 so that I don't have to renumber the parts which at this writing number 1,082 pieces. (May 11, 2013) Thank you for being here and helping raise the level of awareness of the Transformer fandom which is a great thing. 


	12. Chapters 121-130

**Chapter 121: Chapter 121**

  
The Diego Diaries: Prowl and Shockwave

=0=Ops Center and Prowl

The e-mail responses had been sent so now he waited. Other tasks had to be done. Masses of data that rolled in around the clock from all over the world and beyond had to be analyzed. Data on the goings on at Autobot City had to be considered, responded to and routed to the correct department heads as well. More reports of gangs trying to get weaponry were coming in. It never ended so he sat at Teletraan, three datapads spread out before him. He had plugged into the console to get information directly from the seething mass of raw data piling up, picking out what he needed to make informed decisions about plans being formulated in different locations in his processor and battle computer all at the same time.

Optimus wanted a dozen or so possibilities sorted out with counter measures drawn up, personnel selected and infrastructure in place to take them at a moment's notice. Around him the crew worked at their usual peak level of efficiency. They were pros and knew what to do. The morning staff meeting would be held later this night so that all who were involved would be able to put their pieces of the mosaic on the table for the others to see.

Right now, Mirage was on Inside Man. Prowl had sent the e-mails to Shockwave and some to Galloway, Daniels and Lydia Nast posing as Bill Nast. Optimus was handling the soldiers, going to N.E.S.T. meetings and managing a new demand by the Senate for another hearing. Jazz was taking care of dealing the local intel and working out the possible angles for special operations that the situation as fluid as it was might present. Ironhide was managing building wide security with emphasis on the younglings and his own sparkling. Everyone was busy and tense.

It was a normal day at Diego Garcia.

=0=Ironhide and Orion

He stood in the doorway watching the younglings sitting together on the floor gathered around Red Alert who had come up in the voluntary rotation to work in the youngling room on off duty time. He was showing them a book with pictures telling them about fire engines, putting out fires and general damage control procedures. They were enthralled and he was tightly wound but ecstatic. Ironhide was amused and Orion was gawking around as he sat in his sire's arm tucked into the crook that was becoming his favorite place to sit.

Red Alert answered questions, then all broke to play, building houses and structures then 'burning them down', practicing the things that they had just learned. Red Alert walked around telling them how to tighten up an escape route, what would happen when a second story block house fell from a flash over and other general but pithy observations. It was all terribly amusing.

Ironhide looked down at his 'little buddy' and smiled. "You wanna be a fireman?"

Orion looked at him, his optic ridges frowning as he strained to understand the comments of his sire. They were so much noise to him but comforting. They were the noises of the figure who along with his carrier/creator mattered the most to him. Ironhide smiled and raised him up holding his tiny body in both his servos. He kissed Orion, then put him back in the crook of his arm, turning to begin the rounds of the building checking every possible point of entry and exit. Then they would go to Medbay for Orion's carrier/creator to snuggle, kiss, feed, snuggle, kiss and snuggle him before putting him down for his nap. Orion would recharge soundly, his sire sitting nearby fidgeting, reading or chatting with someone until his 'little buddy' awoke and they would make the same journey again making sure that the embassy was as snug as could be.

=0=Ops Center and Prowl

The emails began to arrive and Prowl marked them for the meeting, finding that they were intermediate replies. That is, they were acknowledgments about meet ups with the informational e-mails of actual times and places coming up later on in the week. It depended on clearing the schedule to find the best possible venue for all involved. Daniels, Galloway and 'William Nast' were going to go. They had intercepted Lydia Nast's e-mails so that Shockwave would not know about her and he didn't. 

So far. 

It was a juggling game but important enough that they could deal a significant blow to the Decepticons if they succeeded. They would also be preventing harm to Mrs. Nast.

=0=Shockwave

He sat plugged into the console of the Nemesis. Arriving orns before he had sifted every possible corner of the ship, every byte of data, every cast off bit of flotsam trying to understand two things. First, the disposition of the Seekers. They were gone and he would have them. He would search the entire galaxy until he found them. Secondly, Starscream had been playing at a dangerous game. He had a good idea but had fallen through on execution.

As ever.

The parts of the whole were sound. There was enormous amounts of human currency gathered together to use to co-opt the players that were necessary to the outcome. It was gathered from those who would least be able to do anything about it; drug dealers, gun runners, slavers and the like. They had contributed albeit unwillingly to the downfall of their world in more ways than just their criminal actions and activities.

A number of steps had been taken. A partial ownership in Intel-Martin and its subsidiaries to use as a cover for Decepticon activity was genius. Bringing egotistical humans of influence into his sphere was also genius. The framework was sound. The actions within that framework weren't. He would have to apply his ruthless logic to the problem working out a smoother transition from where they were to where they wanted to be, then execute it.

First, he would meet with the humans, Galloway, Nast and Daniels. He would show them a side of High Flyer that they didn't know existed. Then he would make good on the contracts with Nast delivering him Autobots as agreed-upon. The mole Starscream was playing had told them of younglings and a sparkling present among the Autobot garrison. The idea of it was stunning, infants among their own kind an almost unheard of thing. Rumors among the colonies had spoken of such but it was unfounded. Either they were in existence but hidden from him or someone was telling him lies or myths. He could use younger subjects in his work. There was much to do with perfecting his species and they would be more than a little useful.

Then there was the problem with Autobot City. Prime had made a fortress on the fourth planet from the human's sun. They had created a system of alarms that would not allow easy entrance into the system. He would have to ponder that. A lot of things had come to pass that would have been destroyed quickly if he had been here. However, Cybertron had taken longer than he considered to rebuild. The space bridges which were now in partial working order had taken longer. Some things had been forgotten. 

He considered all of it and the biggest question as well... where was Megatron? What had happened to him and where was he? That he didn't know. He would take it one step at a time. With logic and a lack of emotional engagement he would unwind the ball of string that had been cast aside with the disappearance of the Seekers. He would find a way to salvage things before there was more unrest in the empire than there already was.

=0=Ops Center and Prowl

Ironhide made his rounds walking into Ops Center to pause beside Prowl at Teletraan II. Looking at the data stream he smiled. "Shockwave wants a meet up."

"It appears so," Prowl said reaching over to take Orion into his servos. Smiling and cooing, he hugged the infant to his chassis. Patting Orion's little aft, Prowl turned punching up the texts of the e-mails. As Ironhide read them Prowl tended to the sparkling who was happy to be with anyone who wanted to hold him. Grinning around his binky, he looked at the red chevron of the handsome winger who held him so gently. Reaching up, he tried to grab it falling very short of his target.

"How do you suppose he will greet everyone? Holograms?"

"Hard to say, Ironhide," Prowl said looking up from the sparkling. "I don't know if he's going to have a front person, make a hologram or just expose himself to them to scare them into cooperation. His logic and mine don't cross paths very easily."

"You aren't evil," Ironhide said scrolling them down as he read.

Prowl chuckled. "Thank you, Ironhide. I try."

Ironhide turned with a grin. "He likes you, Prowl."

"I like him," Prowl replied. "I have been responsible for four younglings but never a sparkling. I just love them, sparklings. They are so small and cute. This sparkling, Ironhide, is the cutest thing I've ever seen."

"He is," Ironhide said grinning with pride. "What about you and Prime?"

Prowl shrugged, his expression hard to read. His eyes never left the sparkling. "I don't know. It will have to be seen. But I expect more sparklings among the mechs now that they have seen this one and Gear Shift coming up on separation. I hope so."

"So do I," Ironhide said moving to sit across from Prowl and his sparkling. "That sparkling is the second best thing that has ever happened to me."

Prowl grinned and looked up, nodding. "I know what you mean." He looked at the sparkling and smiled. "I really like you, Orion. You are one cute little sparkling."

Orion looking at Prowl's chevron smiled. Then he chirped, the first sound he ever made on his own besides crying. Prowl looked at Ironhide surprise suffusing his face plates. Ironhide, his optic ridges disappearing somewhere behind his head leaned forward to look at his son. "You little slagger, you," he said with a smile.

Orion grinned back. Around his binky.

=0=Medbay shortly after

" **IRONHIDE! HOW THE FRAG CAN YOU KEEP DOING THIS AND NOT GET ME!**?"

"Ratchet, it was just Ops Center. He was just sitting there looking around. It was just Ops Center."

" **I DON'T CARE! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO COME AND GET ME**!"

"Ratchet..."

" **I DON'T CARE**!"

=0=Ops Center and Prowl

He came back from an afternoon of meetings tired and drained. The Senate was going to require another meeting. It would be about the 'problems' of the personnel at the base with the Autobots among other things. Beau Weaver had gotten control of the committee and was going to be using it to revisit the treaties that were signed previously. They wanted to have Optimus Prime come himself but he had refused.

Since they were paying their own way now with the proceeds of their patents and the resulting products that supplied alternatives to oil based energy they had more leeway in what they would agree to or not. Another issue were the products themselves which were going to make a dent in the energy market worldwide earning the wrath of oil producers who were major campaign contributors.

He walked onto the command deck steering his way to Teletraan II, smiling at Prowl as he paused. Pulling up a chair to sit he explained the complications. Getting updated by his SIC, he then rose pulling Prowl to his peds. "Better call the senior staff together. We have to figure out what we are going to tolerate and what we can tell them we won't. I also think an update on Shockwave is in order."

Prowl nodded, then turned opening a channel base wide. Speaking in Cybertronian he called them together. "Senior Autobot staff and department heads, meet in the conference room right now. Thank you."

Turning, walking together, they made their way to the conference room in Ops Center. Moments later a harassed looking Ratchet carrying his sparkling with a contrite Ironhide following joined them sitting in their usual places. Others came just as quickly and they began. Prowl pulled the file up on the e-mails and they read them together.

-0-

To: Daniels, Jase, Galloway, Ted and Nast, William

From: High Flyer

I am glad to hear that you find my suggestion to meet together a good one. I am in the middle of some negotiations and will be sending instructions about where to come and when by Thursday this week.

I would like to discuss the projects that have been on the table for some time, the collaborations and new ones as well. I am aware that this is a high risk security venture but I assure you that I will provide security for all and we shall meet in a secluded venue.

Wait for my e-mail on Thursday and come to the location your e-mails will specify. Private planes will bring you to the meeting. I want this to be as quiet as we can make it without the added burden of a lot of extra people that add nothing.

Until then,

High Flyer

-0-

To: High Flyer

From: Jason 'Jase' Daniels

Good to hear from you. I will be leaving Diego Garcia tonight to return to Virginia. I will be free then to ride to your venue with Ted Galloway. I am delighted to talk to you about the 'projects' and any new collaborations as well. It is good to be in the company of like minded people. I will inform my father and grandfather about my absence here in Diego Garcia. I want you to know that they are men of influence and will be very interested in what you have to tell me. Until then,

Jase Daniels

-0-

To: High Flyer

From: Ted Galloway

I am glad to hear from you at last. The projects have been a fiasco and Bill can explain them when we all get together. Jase Daniels is coming here and we can come together. Looking forward to a productive meeting. I wish also to tell you that it is imperative given my candidacy that this be as quiet as possible.

Until then,

Ted Galloway

-0-

"Well, it looks like they are getting together. What about Nast?" Perceptor asked.

"We have been doing the correspondence for Nast," Prowl said. "We have also been intercepting what Lydia Nast sent and so far she's got no place to go to find him. She is aware that something is up but not what it is."

"When are we going to pull him into this? I think it might be good to scare him to death and have him go to the meeting," Ironhide said smiling at his sparkling resting as he was in Ratchet's arms. He looked at Prime. "Unless you have something else in mind."

Prime staring at the sparkling himself looked up. "I agree."

"With what? Scaring Nast, sending him or what?" Ironhide said looking at his sparkling again.

"Both," Prime said sitting back. "I want to have a chat with him tomorrow. I think once we explain the situation and what he's liable for he might be willing to be on our side for leniency later on. I also believe if he knew he was implicated in crimes with Decepticons he will be receptive."

"I want to be there for the interview," Ratchet said his expression grim.

"Me too," Ironhide said. "This could be fun. Why not have Springer and Arcee there too?"

Prime grinned, turning to Prowl. "Make it so," he said quietly.

Prowl grinned and nodded.

=0=That night

"That is one cute little sparkling."

"I agree."

"Are we getting a sparkling?" T-Bar asked walking to his genitor, climbing into Prime's lap. "That is a cute little sparkling. He can't talk."

"Not yet," Prime said pulling the youngster into his lap. "Soon."

"I like sparklings," T-Bar said settling into Prime's arms.

Prowl grinned. "So do I."

Prime glanced at Prowl and swallowed. "Time for recharge," he said rising, gathering T-Bar into his arms. "Time for recharge!" he said brightly, walking toward the bedroom youngling mechs in tow.

=0=In the bosom of love

"Are you still mad at me?"

" **Yes**."

"I'm sorry, Ratchet. Half of what happens just happens and I couldn't get you anyway. Not in time."

"Taking him for his first visit to the wash racks is not spur of the moment. Taking him to see Ops Center for the first time is not spur of the moment. **I WANT TO SEE HIM SEE THINGS FOR THE FIRST TIME TOO**! What else have you done without me?" Ratchet sat in the chair by the berth, the little sparkling feeding from the line at his wrist.

"Uh, nothing. Really." He considered the other times he had taken Orion to Ops Center and prayed to Primus Ratchet wouldn't find out. That and the other places. And people. And things they looked at. And games they played. Or Ironhide played and Orion watched. Like roll the dummy grenade. Orion liked that game. He also prayed to Primus that Ratchet didn't find out about that one either.

" **What?** " A piercing optic pierced him.

"We just wandered around. Went here and there in this place and nothing else."

"Better not, Ironhide. I want to see him do his first things too."

Pause.

"If you see Prowl he might tell you that he held Orion this afternoon."

"Okay. **What about it**?" A fierce piercing optic pierced him. Fiercely.

"He … uh, he chirped."

Pause.

Rise.

Quiver with freaking outraged outrage.

" **WHAT THE FRAG!** "

"Language, Ratchet, language." He rose holding his hands in a tone it down gesture even as he knew it wouldn't help.

" **LANGUAGE MY AFT! OUR SPARKLING SAID HIS FIRST SPARKLING WORD AND YOU DIDN'T GET ME!** "

"I couldn't. It just happened..."

" **I DON'T GIVE A FRAG! I WANT TO BE THERE!** "

They paused as the sparkling began to wave his little arms, a grin appearing on his kisser. Ratchet looking at him with love pulled the plug out. The infant became still for a moment then grinned.

Then he spoke again.

"Frag."

Pause. Two sets of optics look at each other. Then at the sparkling. Then each other.

"Slag," they said together.

=0=TBC

2010 (12)

* * *

**Chapter 122: Chapter 122**

  
  


Diego Diaries: The Next Day

=0=Ops Center

They paused on their way to the morning staff meeting checking with Prowl who had been collecting the overnight feed. Turning together, they walked to the conference room and sat down. Prowl began to lay out the clear and present threat.

"Interpol has gotten word of a proposed weapons exchange in New York in the next several days. It matches what Thundercracker told us of seven Decepticons still present on the Earth. Apparently, Shockwave has granted permission for a personal weapon from one of them to be given to a weapons dealer over this weekend. It alleviates the need to bring one in and is an endorsement of the security that we have that they have to do it this way. It also means that we have to send a team now and stake out the area until it takes place."

"Do they say where in New York City?" Ratchet asked holding a recharging Orion in his arms. Ironhide sitting next to him sat with his arm around the back of Ratchet's chair, contentment evident on his face.

"It's not known yet. The F.B.I. has an informant who is working on the details and when they know, we know. But we have to have teams in place for this weekend." Prowl looked at Prime who was considering the situation.

"Jazz can arrange two teams. I want every possible escape route covered," Prime said leaning forward, his eyes on the sparkling. "I also have to tell you that the Senate leadership has changed in America and that Beau Weaver is now in charge of the committee that regulates relations with us. He wants to have hearings again."

Groans circled the table and Ratchet glanced at Ironhide who was looking decidedly unhappy. "What do you want to do, Optimus?" Ratchet asked filling with dread.

"We will have to comply but the conditions will be more equal this time since we pay our own way now." Prime thought a moment. "It cannot be avoided but now we are operating from a more powerful and autonomous position."

"But Ratchet can't leave Orion," Ironhide said a frown on his face. Ratchet sat beside him, his optics fixed on his sparkling, a pained expression firmly in place.

"I'm sorry, Ironhide. I can't go. No one else has the experience and tact that Ratchet has," Prime said gently. "You will have to take care of him until Ratchet gets back."

"I'm going with Ratchet," Ironhide said sitting straighter.

"You can't take the infant," Prowl said glancing at Ratchet. "You know that, Ratchet. You can't."

"I know," Ratchet said in a small voice. "You will have to take care of him until I get back, Ironhide. He can't come and if he can't come and I have to go you have to stay here to care for him."

Ironhide stared at Ratchet, at his misery-filled optics, at the recharging sparkling in his Only One's arms. "This is just slag. What the frag does that little slagger want anyway that he didn't hear the first time at the other hearing?"

"He wants to do his master's bidding," Wheeljack said his voice edged with anger. "We're a target for them and Shockwave is using him against us."

"We'll use Shockwave against him then. We have the advantage of knowing about them without them knowing about us," Prime said his optics narrowing. "Their meet up should be before this hearing and if we can record all of it, video all of it, then we can end this threat and deal the Decepticons a real blow. Prowl has formulated a number of plans for us to use depending on what Shockwave sends them by e-mail. We should discuss and troubleshoot all of them now. Later this afternoon we will add our own agent into the mix."

"Nast?" Jazz asked taking a datapad from Prowl who was passing them around to everyone.

"Nast," Prime said his voice grim.

They spent the next two hours discussing possibilities and troubleshooting their plans to deal with the growing threat of their external and internal enemies.

=0=At Autobot City, Mars

Ultra Magnus stood at the site of a dig that was expanding their underground living quarters. Word had been forwarded to them that two big groups of refugees were fleeing from war and heading their way. One would arrive in a solar week with the other two solar weeks behind. They were a mixed group, old and young, skilled and unskilled Cybertronians who were in various stages of health and disrepair.

Prime had detailed him to handle their repatriation into the new world of Autobot City and protection. He had jumped at the task, expanding the energon plant, cataloging skills and assigning jobs. Bots, especially the former refugees who had jumped at the chance to help worked around the clock to make the fortress stronger, bigger and more self-sufficient.

Aerialbots, three of them and Cosmos were based on the planet full time for now. They made daily runs between Earth and Mars but during down time spent their orns here and would until the refugees were found, retrieved and settled.

A faint message was following the two groups that may or may not be that of a contingent of Autobot soldiers and a min-icon village that had been fleeing Megatron since the early war. That was a thrilling discovery, riding on a carrier wave from out of the solar system barely reaching them before it faded. He had passed it on to Prime who had been happy to hear about it. They were a good month away from sending a strong signal so they put that one on the schedule for further action when they could.

The mini-cons were worrisome to Prime but he kept it to himself, Ultra Magnus and Prowl. It was practice among the Decepticons to capture mini-cons, rewire their bodies and force them to power link with their own systems. It unleashed tremendous power in the Decepticon to which they were slaved. It made it extremely hard to defeat them hand-to-hand and the idea of a village fleeing this way would be a tempting target for Shockwave if he found out about it. One could only expect that he would.

Magnus walked to the edge of a pit that would be formatted and reinforced, another circular junction from which corridors would radiate out, spokes of habitation out from the round hub of the junction that led from another one nearby and yet another. They were on their third level of excavation below the upper levels of the original layout, space for people to work, stores to be kept and general living area for a burgeoning population to be made available.

He turned to walk back pausing before the hangars near to the airfield where shuttles were being constructed. Materials from their construction and fabrication plants were being used to make space-going shuttles, ones tough and fast enough to carry teams other places and armed enough to hold off a Seeker but no more. As they had time and more talents, they would improve them but for now in the solar system proper they would be efficient and capable.

He felt a swell of pride inside as he watched a defeated people arise working with care and pride for their new home. He felt honored to be the manager of the city that bore the name of the faction he served. He also felt honored to serve a Prime with the wisdom and strength to make this happen. Turning, Ultra Magnus walked toward the fortress and Ops Center to check for more intel about the incoming refugees. Until they were here safe, he would not fully rest from his responsibility.

=0=Nast

They sat in the conference room waiting together. Ratchet sat in the back, a blanket thrown over his lap. Under it was the sleeping form of his sparkling. Ironhide down in the brig with Red Alert walked back to the conference room prisoner in tow between them. The other three men were vocal in their disgust with being left behind and it was music to Ironhide's audials.

Nast held in Ironhide's servo like a rag doll hung on with a continuous stream of epithets all the way to the conference room only stopping when Ironhide unceremoniously dumped him on the tabletop. He landed in a heap, then sat up staring around wildly at the silent array of Autobots sitting around the room all of them staring at him with cold unblinking optics. He stood up on shaking legs and looked around again pausing before Optimus Prime. "What's this all about? You can't hold me."

"We have," Prime said. "We've been holding you for some time now."

"The authorities," he began before he was cut off.

"I am sure that the authorities would love to hear from you, Mr. Nast," Optimus said coldly. The door opened and two more Autobots entered moving to stand behind Optimus who sat at the end of the table.

Nast looked at them warily and then Prime. "Who is this?"

"You don't know?" Jazz asked looking up from his datapad.

"If I had to **ask** ," Nast said testily, "then you can take it as a given that I don't **know** them."

Prime leaned forward resting on his elbows. "I'll let them introduce themselves." Leaning back he waited. The two Autobots looked at him then smiled. "My name is Springer, Mr. Nast and this lovely femme," he said turning slightly toward a hard-opticed feminized Autobot, "is Arcee."

For a moment, he didn't speak or move, then he took a step backwards as the color drained from his complexion.

=0=Lydia Nast

She sat in her living room waiting for the phone call that she had been promised by her husband. He would be calling in a few but that time had passed and she was afraid. Her e-mails had been answered but only generally. They felt like they were coming from someone else, not Bill. Light stretched across the carpeted floor as outside the sun began to set. She would sit for a while more before the phone would ring.

=0=Daniels

He had taken a flight back to the world changing at Ramstein Air Base before getting into Washington, D. C. A ride in a cab took him to Richmond, Virginia and the home of Theodore Galloway. He was greeted and feted, then sat sipping scotch before a fire. Far away from them was the 'problem' of the Autobot garrison and the opportunity it presented.

"I would like you to make sure that our inside man gets the pictures I need. Beau Weaver is going to be holding hearings and I'm going to be there presenting our side of the problem. Any visual aids that can illustrate our point of view would go a long way toward shaping public opinion."

Daniels nodded sipping the vintage scotch in his glass. "I will try. Right now, I have some interesting tidbits that might be useful and interesting to Nast. One of the Autobots can become invisible."

"Fuck," Galloway said shaking his head. "I think I can't be surprised, then I am. I hear that there's an infant there now."

"The word is that one of them had a baby," Daniels said wrinkling his nose. "Don't ask me how but they did. No one has seen it and it's purely speculation. It could be just that, speculation. I just think it would be a nice gift to Nast, something to tie himself to us in a way he can't break."

"The infant?" Galloway asked.

Daniels nodded. "Sure."

"You don't really believe you will ever be close enough to get their children do you?" Galloway asked smirking at Daniels. "You would have to run a gauntlet of death to do that. They would defend their young with their last gasp."

"Probably," Daniels said. "But it is an interesting problem."

"It's suicide," Galloway said. "I remember working with them when they first came here. They defend each other. You would never be able to pry a child loose."

"We can think about it," Daniels said. "What better way to control or convince them that they can't live here than to attack the thing they prize the most."

"That would kill public opinion against us," Galloway said shaking his head. "No one would forgive a child's death, even these things. They may be metal but they are small and no one would forgive it."

"It's just an idea," Daniels said sipping his drink.

"Leave it that," Galloway said. "Suicide by robot doesn't sound good or productive to me."

"Maybe High Flyer has ideas. He seems to be hooked into the Decepticons. Maybe he can tell us more about what is what. I am interested in meeting with him. He must have balls the size of cannon shells."

"He must," Galloway said refilling his glass. "I don't have what it takes to deal directly with those crazy assholes. He has to be the wall between us and them."

"You have no guts, Galloway," Daniels said with a grin.

Galloway looked at him coldly. "You have no sense of self preservation, Daniels."

Daniels just smiled and tipped his drink. "I'm going to be Majority Leader of the Senate some day, Galloway."

Galloway smiled coldly, his own glass in hand. "And I will be President of the United States."

They both tipped their glasses together.

=0=Conference Room, Diego Garcia

"What do you want from me?" Nast asked turning in circles as he tried to find the exit from his waking nightmare.

"Why, Mr. Nast, isn't it evident?" Jazz asked leaning closer, his visor giving him a slightly demonic expression. "We want everything."

=0=Later on

"I don't like this a bit, Ratchet."

Ratchet looking up from drying Orion nodded, his optics as miserable as Ironhide had ever seen. "I know. We have our duty, Ironhide. We can't take him with us every time we go somewhere. We have to put him first."

Ironhide shifting on his peds in agitation knew that Ratchet was right and that Prime couldn't do anything different. That didn't make it any bit easier to accept. He took the towel and folded it, putting it on a shelf with all the things they needed to take care of their little mech.

Ratchet picked Orion up holding him, smiling at him. "I think I will die to leave him even five minutes," he said holding the infant against his cheek.

Ironhide swallowed. "I know."

Ratchet turned and leaned on Ironhide. "This is going to be hard, Ironhide." The sparkling looked up at them, his little blue optics unblinking. Then he chirped softly. Ratchet startled and looked at his sparkling, at the sweet face looking up at him and burst into tears. Turning to Ironhide, he leaned on him and sobbed.

Ironhide feeling a fury with fate and circumstances he hadn't felt in a long time held him swaying gently. The sparkling merely watched him, his hero and greatest champion.

And he chirped.

=0=At the conference meeting earlier

They showed their evidence to Nast, the e-mails and deals, the evidence of the exchange attempts and most especially the contempt for the law and his country that he had shown in his zeal. They showed all of it to him as he sat pale and shaken. When they were finished it was silent. Prime leaned forward. "You are a traitor to your country. You are a thief, an illegal arms dealer, a criminal and a coward, Mr. Nast. You have a mole in the soldier's administration building, 'Inside Man' and you have enough crimes on your slate to put you away forever. You might even have earned a firing squad."

He sat down on the tabletop, his legs rubbery, his head swimming. They waited. Then he looked at Prime. "What do you want?"

Prime considered him then leaned forward again. "First of all, an apology to Arcee and Springer would be a good start."

He looked up at Prime and blinked.

=0=TBC c2010 (12)

* * *

**Chapter 123: Chapter 123**

* * *

Diego: The next stage of doom

=0=The Conference Room

He stared at Prime, startled. "Apologize?"

Prime nodded.

He looked at Prime and the others as if some sort of joke was being played. Then he arose looking at the two Autobots standing on either side of Prime, a look of small amusement on their alien faces. "I'm … I'm sorry."

Springer grinned. "You apologize worse than your boy, Todd."

"Ah, Todd," Jazz said. "He peed on your hand didn't he, Springer when you tossed him in the brig."

"He did," Springer said nodding his eyes never leaving Nast.

Nast unable to figure out what was happening swallowed hard as tears welled in his eyes. "What do you want? Tell me. I'll do whatever you want. You want High Flyer? You want to have the others? I'll give them to you. Just … just tell me what you want."

Prime leaned forward glancing at Prowl for a second. Prowl was looking at Nast with such contempt on his handsome face that Prime had to quash a smile. Prowl looked beautiful to Prime no matter what was going on and the expression he had, contempt and disdain mixed with an inability to understand that kind of behavior on a personal level was no exception. "We want it all … every bit of it. Then we have a surprise for you, Mr. Nast. We're going to tell you who High Flyer really is."

"Okay," he said licking dry lips. "I was approached by a guy named High Flyer on our internal bulletin board. They said they were working on robotics and wanted information on you. He wanted to know about Springer and someone named Bumblebee, Kup and Hound."

Prime nodded. "Continue."

"It sort of led from one thing to another and we linked up, Daniels, Galloway and me. We all wanted the same thing. Galloway and Daniels wanted you gone from here, out of business and so did High Flyer. It was ideological. They hate aliens. They think you're wrong for us, that the Decepticons come because you are still here. You go, they go. I just wanted business opportunities. I don't give a rat's ass about the politics and shit. I want to make and sell munitions and I wanted to have a couple of you to reverse engineer. He told me he could help me get a couple of Autobots but it never worked out. I never got either of them." He paused shaking his head, his hands and body shaking slightly. "You're standing here. Of course I didn't get you. I just …" He sat on the table swallowing hard, waiting.

"You made a deal with the devil, Mr. Nast. Your wife is lookin' for you and she has been tryin' to correspond with High Flyer," Jazz said. "We've been interceptin' her attempts and keepin' her off High Flyer's radar."

Nast had shaken at that bit of news but he didn't say anything, just nodding silently.

Prime leaned forward again considering the man before him. "High Flyer wants a meet up shortly and is sending directions. We want you to go to it and be our own 'inside man', Mr. Nast."

"I don't think I can do that … I don't … my nerves …"

"You will go and we will be nearby. We will be listening in and we will protect the planet from you and them," Prime said quietly. "It's what we do, Mr. Nast."

He nodded jerkily. "You give me no alternative."

"You have alternatives. You can help us or you can go to the authorities in America and prison forever and ever," Prowl said his nose structure wrinkled as if smelling something bad.

"What do I say?" Nast asked shaking harder.

"You listen. You don't make any stupid moves. You give us the time to get the information we need to take this whole thing down," Prowl said. He leaned forward. "Do you understand that you were dealing with someone who portrayed himself as connected to the Decepticons?"

"He never said so directly," Nast said slightly defensively.

"He captured Arcee and Springer," Prowl persisted. "That is not something a person without a lot of help can do. Arcee and Springer don't get captured."

He looked at them and nodded, his eyes resting on the toes of his shoes. "He didn't tell me so."

"Well, let's rectify that then," Prime said nodding to Ironhide who walked to the door and opened it. They all turned including Nast. A figure stepped inside, a figure of enormous beauty and menace rolled into a sleek deadly design. He moved toward Prime and turned facing the figure on the table, the expression of contempt on his face astonishing. "Mr. Nast, this is 'High Flyer'. Of course, **we** know him as the Decepticon Seeker, Starscream."

Nast passed out cold on the tabletop.

Starscream looking to Prime shook his head. "You have a sense of humor, Prime." He turned to the human regarding him. "As they said on his bulletin board, 'Some times you're the bug and some times you're the window.'"

Prime grinned. "Well put," he said quietly.

=0=In quarters later that night

Orion lay on the berth between them, his little arms and legs flapping and waving as he tried to reach his sire's digits. Ironhide held his servo over the infant wiggling his digits. Ratchet stretched on his side and Ironhide the other, the two cuddling their little mech in the quiet of the evening. Outside, the corridor was quiet. No one had broken anything requiring Ratchet's attention and skills. They lay down and comforted each other in the joy of their tiny family.

"You feeling better, Ratchet?" Ironhide asked as Orion grasped his servo, raising himself up to bite on it.

"No, but I will I suppose," Ratchet said taking one of Orion's peds into his servo, rubbing the tiny toes with his digits. "I love this little sparkling, Ironhide. I didn't think I could love anything besides you this much."

"I know," Ironhide said. "He's the greatest thing we ever did together."

"He is," Ratchet said. "I can't even remember what it was like before he came."

"It was good, Ratchet," Ironhide said stroking Ratchet's face. "It was always good with you and me."

"I know," Ratchet said. "I guess I just got used to feeling this wonderful being around him all the time, having him here. I have all the way through this."

"You won't be gone long," Ironhide said softly. "We will be waiting."

Ratchet nodded. "I love how you took to this sparkling, taking care of him and being his father. You know you are a great father, Ironhide."

Ironhide smiled. "Tell me to do something hard, Ratchet."

Ratchet smiled. "Carry the next one."

"Not on your life," he replied smiling.

=0=Conference room earlier

They provided him a chair to sit on and he did, his gaze fixed on the floor, his exhaustion evident. Starscream sitting on a chair next to Prime regarded him. "Insect," he said with scorn. "Who did you think you were dealing with? Who else could have indulged your stupid requests but me?"

Nast looked at him, at Prime and then the floor. It was almost too much to consider all that was happening to him, what he was caught up in so he found himself without expression or comment. He just stared at the ground.

"I don't think he has much to say to you, Starscream," Jazz said amusement evident in his voice. "What can you do to enlighten us more?"

"Not much," Starscream said considering the request. "I don't have many memories of those days. It all seemed old... like it happened in another time and place without me."

"You don't remember this person and his requests?" Prowl asked.

"Some of it. His requests. He wanted an Autobot or two. I gave him two. Does he want more? I would think the two I gave to him would be enough."

Springer grinned slightly, the incongruity of the figure before him warring with the terrible memories of their encounter on an asteroid far away. "You don't remember anything?" Springer asked moving to take a seat across from him. The Seekers had been around him at Autobot City and as he observed Starscream's struggle to return to his personal sentience he had found his anger diminishing and his personal empathy rising. "None of it?"

Starscream looked at Springer considering the faintly familiar face and color scheme. "I know you from somewhere but I can't place it."

Springer nodded. "Probably a good thing. I was one of the two Autobots you gave the insect."

Starscream thought about it a moment, then turned fixing Nast with a disgusted expression. "How did you lose them when I gave them to you, insect?" He looked at Optimus who looked back at him with a slight sense of amusement and pity. "You really should think twice before doing business with this insect. He can't seem to keep his things in servo."

"I will remember that, Starscream," Prime said nodding. "Thank you for coming."

"You are welcome, I guess," he said doubtfully rising slowly. He turned to Nast. "Be glad you are dealing with Prime. I would swat you, insect for being such a dumb aft."

Nast shuddered leaning backward in his chair, watching as the Seeker walked out of the room, a malignant look on his face that he directed Nast's way. The door closed and he was back with a group of people who only hated him greatly rather than someone who would have killed him without a thought. Looking at Prime, he took a deep shaky breath. "What do you want me to do?"

Prime nodded smiling a humorless smile, then leaned forward to tell him. When they told him about Shockwave he sat in his chair and wept.

=0=On the way to Autobot City, Mars

Starscream leaned against the bulkhead of Cosmos lulled by the thrum of his engines and the soft movements of his body as the big shuttle flew smoothly through the vacuum of space. Springer sat in a seat on the flight deck and Arcee sat beside him. They chatted discussing the new refugees and watched the chronometer tick off the minutes until they were entering the airspace of Autobot City. They touched down and taxied to the disembarkation spot where Thundercracker and Skywarp waited. They took Starscream and walked back chatting together about his trip to Earth and his conversation with the Prime.

Arcee and Springer transformed and rolled past them driving into the fortress and their life there. The Seekers would take more time.

=0=Back in his cell

They brought him back and put him in his cell, the others watching silently until Ironhide left. Nast walked to his bunk and lay down closing his eyes, ignoring the others who implored him to tell them what had happened. It didn't matter to him. He was in a waking nightmare with no way out. He was going to have to be very careful to find his way. As bad as the original 'High Flyer' had turned out to be the new one was worse. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep as eventually the others settled down, their curses and disgust ringing in his ears.

=0=Ops Center

Prowl checked the intel overnight and smiled. Gathering it, he turned to walk to the rec room joining Prime on his way to the N.E.S.T. HQ to discuss the New York City operation. He showed the intel to Prime who nodded smiling slightly. "Right on time," he said nodding. Prowl nodded back as they continued onward spending a couple of hours in the company of the humans they cared about the most, the N.E.S.T. soldiers.

=0=Sunstreaker and Sideswipe

They sat together going over their needs for the strike teams that were being organized. Word was out that there would be another hearing in Washington, D.C. Sideswipe felt he had the inside track on going once more in Ratchet's security detail. "Poor Ratchet," Sideswipe said putting his peds on a chair. "Leaving his sparkling will be tough."

Sunstreaker nodded. "I like the sparklings. I like Silverbow. If we ever have a sparkling or two I want a femme like her and a mech like him."

"They will be awesome," Sideswipe said. "I wonder if they will be a winger?"

"Maybe," Sunstreaker replied nodding. "I wonder what tiny wings look like? I bet they're cute but then they would be because they would be ours."

Bluestreak walked from the direction of the enlisted mech's barracks heading with a smile toward the two. Sitting, he relaxed. "I'm on the list to go with Ratchet."

"You are?" Sunstreaker asked surprised. "How do you know?"

"Prowl let me know," he replied his wings relaxing in their company, his contentment evident.

"Who else is going?" Sideswipe asked. "Am I going?"

"I don't know. He didn't say and I didn't ask."

"Great, Blue," Sunstreaker said. "You have a window to look through and you don't ask?"

"Won't matter anyway. They will send who they want," he replied. "I thought you would prefer to go to New York on that mission."

"I won't mind it." Sunstreaker leaned back regarding Bluestreak for a moment. "We were talking about Ratchet."

Bluestreak's smile faltered. "I feel sorry for Ratchet. I couldn't imagine leaving my own sparkling."

They stared at each other a moment, then Bluestreak sat up fixing them both with a stern optic. "Don't look at me like that. I took steps."

"So did I," Sideswipe replied nodding to Bluestreak.

"What steps?" Sunstreaker asked looking from one to the other.

"To prevent sparking," Bluestreak said looking at Sunstreaker with a strange expression. "You know … like we talked about on the beach that day. You went to Ratchet didn't you, Sideswipe?"

Sideswipe nodded. "Sure. We agreed. Sunny?"

The two of them looked at Sunstreaker, the Lamborghini looking back at them with narrowed optics. "What?" he asked.

"You went too didn't you? To Ratchet? To prevent sparking?" Blue asked.

He just looked at them. "I will."

Blue looked at Sideswipe with concern. "Sunny, why didn't you go and take care of it? We all decided to do that until we could figure out how we felt about carrying and sparking."

"I will," Sunstreaker said defensively. They stared at him with horror in their optics, then he arose turning to walk away.

"Oh, Sideswipe … I have a terrible feeling," Bluestreak said rising.

"You and me both, Blue," he said rising too. They turned following after Sunstreaker.

=0=Medbay

Ratchet heard the commotion before he saw the three entering medbay. He turned staring at them with agitation. "Hey!"

They paused and turned. Ratchet pointed to a bed on his desk, the bed that he used when Orion was in his care on duty. They stopped looking contrite. That is everyone but Sunstreaker. "What the frag is going on here, Bluestreak?"

He walked to Ratchet and paused glancing nervously back at the twins who were standing by the door, Sunstreaker angrily and Sideswipe nervously. "We need you to check on something, Ratchet."

Ratchet discerning things quickly nodded. "Sit on the berth, Sunstreaker."

Sunny stood glaring at him unmoved. Ratchet not in the mood to be kindly or patient moved toward him, his glare enough to stop a runaway train. "Get on the berth, Sunstreaker or I'll have your ball bearings."

Sunstreaker shaking his head moved and complied, his expression one of intense aggravation. Blue moved to Sideswipe and took his servo, the two stepping closer together worriedly. Ratchet turning to look at Sunstreaker internally commed Ironhide.

:Ironhide:

:Ratchet?:

:Get some muscle and come to Medbay. We may have a brawl in a nanoklik:

:On my way:

Ratchet made a show of doing things as he linked into Sunstreaker, dragged things out waiting for Ironhide to come. By the time they did, Ironhide, Prime, Prowl and Jazz bursting through the door at the same time, he had the news the three wanted. Glancing at Ironhide who checked on Orion he turned and paused, an expression of expectation on his face.

"What is going on, Ratchet?" Prime asked looking at everyone in the room."

Ratchet looked at them and replied.

=0=TBC 2010 (12)

* * *

**Chapter 124: Chapter 124**

* * *

The Diego Diaries: "Adulthood. It's forever."

=0=Medbay

"What is going on, Ratchet?" Prime asked looking at everyone in the room.

Ratchet looked at them and replied. "Sunstreaker is sparked."

It was stone cold quiet a moment, then Sunstreaker got up turning to Ratchet, staring at him with an unreadable expression. "You need to check again."

Ratchet looked at him a moment, then nodded gently pushing Sunstreaker back down on the berth. Prowl looking at Bluestreak and Sideswipe moved to stand between them and Sunstreaker. They had expressions of extreme shock on their faces as Prime glanced back at them moving to stand beside Prowl. Jazz stood rooted to the spot.

Ratchet plugging into Sunstreaker went through the tests once more but the data declared the same outcome. He pulled the plug and looked at Sunstreaker. "You didn't come in like they did. I waited for you but I didn't go find you. I figured you were an adult and I treated you like one. Now, Sunstreaker, are you going to continue to be one or are the mechs here, the muscle that I asked to come necessary?"

Sunstreaker looked at him then the others who were as silent and still as statues. Bluestreak shaking off the initial shock stepped forward halting when Prowl gripped his arm. "Sunny? Can you say something?" he asked anxiously.

Sunstreaker stared at them, then Ratchet. "How can I be sparked when they've taken measures?" he asked his voice tense and edgy.

"The measures protect **them**. They don't protect **you** , Sunstreaker. If you had done the same thing it would have. But you are unprotected and there was no way to prevent this. No one is to blame for this but you," Ratchet said firmly. "But I wouldn't use a word like that for this. I want to know what you feel about this and I know Bluestreak and Sideswipe do too. Are you going to mech up or not?"

Sunstreaker looked at him sharp anger on his face. Ironhide stepped closer his servos balling into fists, his menace growing. Ratchet turned and put his servo on Ironhide's chassis halting him.

"Sunstreaker?"

For a moment he didn't move or speak, a rash of emotions forming on his features then fleeing. He stood, his fists curling and uncurling as he considered his predicament. A storm was fighting through his processor as he stood absorbing the body blow of Ratchet's announcement, the agonized expressions and emotions of his trine mates washing through him as well. He looked at them, at Prime and Prowl, at Ironhide and Ratchet. Then he turned glancing into the office at the sleeping sparkling inside. Turning, he walked into the office and looked down staring at Orion who lay recharging. Ironhide moving to stand closer was halted by Ratchet's grip on his arm. He turned and looked at Ratchet, stopping then slipping loose, walking inside to stand beside Sunstreaker.

"Sunstreaker?" he said softly.

Sunny looked at him as rage, disbelief and embarrassment played across his face. "Ironhide."

"Sunny, I'm your proxy genitor and I will do everything under the sun to help you but if you try to take this out on anyone else because you were too big a dumb aft to do what you and the others agreed to I will kick your aft from here to Cybertron and back."

Sunstreaker looked at him with anger and then it faded replaced by anxiety and disbelief. He looked down at the sparkling, staring at it with an unreadable expression. "I don't know if I can do this. I'm a warrior. I'm a front liner. A sparkling? How the **frag** can **I** do something so awful and strange?"

Ironhide looked at him. "You look at that little sparkling there, Sunstreaker. Look at him closely. Look at him and listen to me carefully."

Sunstreaker looked at Ironhide, then down at the sparkling who was moving his arm in his sleep, moving his balled up fist to his mouth to suck on it.

"That little thing is my **world**. Ratchet **and** my sparkling. What Ratchet did, what he went through to give me a sparkling is the bravest thing I've ever seen someone do for another. You say that you're a front-liner? So am I. You and me, we've seen everything that a battlefield can give us and we **enjoy** it. Maybe too much. Maybe it's true, we don't fear anything or so we say.

"But I do. I found out I really **do** fear something. I was too afraid to do this and I told Ratchet so. I couldn't do it because I was scared. Ratchet did it. He gave me a r]ttsparkling and he did the thing I couldn't. I, Ironhide, a bad ass's bad ass, a chaos bringer, a front-liner, the most feared Autobot in **the whole fraggin' army**. I couldn't do what Ratchet did for me.

"You call this awful? It's a **fraggin' miracle**. It's a slagging act of **mercy**. We aren't going to end because Ratchet could **do this**. We will **continue** because of you, Gear Shift and all the others who will follow Ratchet. You act like this is a terrible thing when it's a terrible **mercy from Primus himself**. It is the greatest service we can do for our people, this thing. My sparkling, **our** sparkling is going to make sure we don't all at some point disappear forever. **Your** sparkling can too.

"You don't have to **like this**. It's a shock. We know and we're with ya on it. You **know** we will be. Just know it's the bravest thing any of us can do now. The ones who can do it, **they're** the most courageous among us. As much as I can do, as much as I fear very little I was too afraid to do this."

He reached down and picked up his sparkling cradling him in the crook of his arm. "I will never live long enough to thank Ratchet for this sparkling. Orion is the greatest treasure in my life besides him, the greatest thing that ever happened to me and I will never be able to make it up to Ratchet that I couldn't be the one to do this."

They stood together each of them silent as Sunstreaker looked at the sparkling. Outside in the medbay the others waited silently. Sunny relaxed a moment, then looked at Ironhide. "I **hate** this, Ironhide. I **hate** it."

Ironhide nodded. "At some point you will wonder why you waited as long as you did. We will **all** help you."

He looked at Ironhide and turned looking out at the others. Then he walked to Ratchet's chair and sat heavily. Ironhide backed out of the office with his son as Bluestreak and Sideswipe swept inside sitting and kneeling around Sunstreaker. He leaned his elbows on his knees resting his helm in his servos as he shook his helm slowly.

Ironhide backed out moving to stand with the others as they watched, unwilling to be relieved as yet. Prowl looked at Ratchet shaking his head. "What do we do, Ratchet?"

"Get ready to be grandparents I guess," Ratchet said taking his sparkling from Ironhide.

Prowl blinked, glancing at Prime who was staring back at him with a shocked expression. Then Prime grinned. "You finally get your sparkling," he said quietly.

Prowl **almost** grinned back.

=0=A few minutes later

They walked out together, a silent Sunstreaker and a tearful Bluestreak. Sideswipe reeling with surprise turned to the others. "I ..."

"Go and be with your family, Sideswipe," Ratchet said. "I will let you know what the schedule will be for Sunstreaker."

Sideswipe nodded pausing in confusion before rolling out the door. It closed and the others looked at each other, the shock wearing off a little.

"This will effect his status as a front-liner for a while," Prowl said anxiety suffusing him. "He can't be in danger."

"He can for a while. The first few orns are the worst and the last three decaorns. Right now he's about seven orns into this," Ratchet said grinning as Prowl reached for and took Orion. The little mech looked at Prowl, smiling at his red chevron reaching for it but failing. Prowl held him patting him almost absently as he considered the problems ahead.

Prime watching with a grin looked at Ratchet. "What do you think? Do we have a problem?"

"I don't know. There is programming that kicks in for carriers that makes it incredibly difficult to be anything but happy and protective. I guess because he took it with more grace than we thought he would its running."

"Can you tune it up?" Prowl asked swaying gently as he held the infant who was patting his chassis with his little servo. "I don't want any more chaos for any of them than we have to suffer."

Ratchet smiled. "The longer he goes the more it will initialize."

Prowl nodded then looked at Orion, a smile gracing his face. Then he looked at Prime. "We're going to have a sparkling."

Prime snorted and shook his head. **"Sunstreaker** is going to have a sparkling." He glanced at Ratchet. "I just got a cold chill hearing him say that."

"You don't want your own sparkling, Prime?" Ratchet asked jokingly. "I figured you would be up for it leading us all down the primrose path to glory and all."

Prime snorted and shrugged. Prowl looking at him with a smirk chuckled. "Panty-waist."

They all paused to access the appropriate language files, then chuckled. Prowl turned regarding Prime with a piercing optic. "I've never had a sparkling to worry about until you."

Prime laughed out loud. "You have four little mechs however."

"That's true." Prowl turned to Ratchet and looked at him for a moment, then down at Orion in his arms. "I'm going to be coming around one of these days, Ratchet and talk to you about carrying."

Prime glanced at Prowl getting a pointed look in return. "Not right away. The youngling's sparkling will do for now. But I want one of my own eventually. Don't you, Optimus?" he asked, his expression so open and sweet Prime smiled.

"Whatever you say, Prowl," he said to general laughter.

=0=Nearby

They sat in the quarters, two on the berth and one pacing. They felt his turmoil and sent him all the love and appreciation they could manage. He felt it and it kept him from ripping his own throat structures out with his bare servos. He paused and turned to them facing them with a critical gaze. "Why didn't you say anything? How could you not say you did this?"

"Sunny, we did. Don't you remember?" Bluestreak said. "I told you. Sideswipe told you."

Sideswipe nodded shrugging helplessly. "You laughed. Remember? You told me you would do it later."

Sunstreaker accessed the files and they were right. But it didn't matter. He was furious and embarrassed to the bottom of his peds. He, Sunstreaker, killer and all around yellow faced menace was fragging sparked. He turned and looked at them. "Who is the sparker? You, Bluestreak? Or you, Sideswipe?"

They all paused looking at each other. Sideswipe looked at him frowning. "I didn't … I didn't directly 'face you, Sunny."

Bluestreak frowned and they looked at him. "What?" Sunstreaker said filling with dread.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does," Sideswipe began but Bluestreak cut him off.

"It doesn't matter if you do it directly or indirectly." He paused looking embarrassed a moment. "Remember that time when we got … uh, over energized and we … experimented with all three of us? When I was in the middle and you two were … plugged in?"

They paused remembering. "Yeah, I remember," Sunstreaker said with a small amount of dread. "You were drunk and so were we. We decided to try a threesome."

Sideswipe nodded. "I wasn't anywhere near you, Sunny. I was plugged into Blue."

"It doesn't matter. We shared the energy. Even if you don't plug directly into Sunstreaker you shared the energy through me into him."

"I could have **SPARKED MY OWN BROTHER**?" Sideswipe rose and looked down at Bluestreak. 

Sunstreaker glancing at Sideswipe with a mix of loathing and fury looked down at Bluestreak as well. "Y **OU MEAN THIS IS FRAGGING INCEST?** "

"No," Bluestreak said rising nervously. "I'm just saying that Ratchet told me that all the energy of a trine goes into making the sparkling. No one in the trine is exempt unless they don't plug in or merge at that moment."

"We … we merged. I merged with you, Bluestreak. Sunny was plugged in when I did. I remember it vaguely." Sideswipe shuttered his optics. "If I merged with you and he got the overload too he was sparked? We both sparked him?" He turned to Sunstreaker who was rubbing his helm with his servos. "It wouldn't be incest would it?"

"I don't … Let me ask Ratchet." Bluestreak stood and commed Ratchet.

:Bluestreak to Ratchet:

:Ratchet here:

:Ratchet, we think we know when it happened. Um …: He paused embarrassed.

:Bluestreak, I'm your doctor. Spill:

:We were … experimenting: Bluestreak's face formed an expression of intense pain and embarrassment but he continued. :We were all three plugged in 'facing and then Sideswipe merged with me. Does that mean that the sparkling is made from incest? I know that sounds stupid and petty but we're really struggling here, Ratchet and if you could tell us the truth about this, we can figure it out better:

There was a pause and then an amused voice returned. :Bluestreak, relax. The energy was energy. I can check the spark code but the twins' code is identical and it won't have any effect beyond being the platform for half of the sparkling's genetics. It merged with yours and Sunstreaker received it. You all three will contribute to this sparkling and incest doesn't apply. Being twins prevents it genetically from being incest. They are identical:

Bluestreak wilted with relief. :Thank you, Ratchet:

:You are welcome:

Bluestreak turned explaining to the twins and they sat down suffused with relief. It was quiet a while then Sideswipe ventured. "Sunny? Are you going to be okay? Are **we** going to be okay?"

Sunstreaker staring at the floor glanced up a fierce expression on his face. "I don't know. I hate this. I want you to know that. But I like Orion and Silverbow and the others."

"So do we," Bluestreak said gently. He rose and walked to sit beside Sunstreaker. "We love you, Sunny. We will be with you every step of the way."

"But it will be me screaming on the berth when it comes," Sunstreaker said. "Me alone."

It was silent a moment. Then Sideswipe resolved. "You didn't do what we asked. You got here by yourself but you don't have to be alone, Sunny. You know how much we love you. We would do anything for you. But this is your goof. Don't punish us for it. We just want to take care of you and be a trine."

Sunstreaker looked at his brother, his miserable expression and his dejected figure. Bluestreak was leaning against him his blue optics shuttered, his figure as dejected as Sideswipe. Then he sighed, feeling strangely relaxed with the idea. A wave of calm suffused him and he straightened considering for a moment the sensations.

:Ratchet?:

:Ratchet here:

:I feel calm:

:Programming, Sunstreaker. You will feel it help you through this. Let it. You will never feel so good again as long as you live:

:Programming, huh?:

:Yeah:

Pause. :Can I talk to you tomorrow?:

:You can talk to me anytime, anywhere, Sunny:

Pause. :Thank you, Ratchet. I guess:

:You're welcome. I guess: 

He felt Ratchet's chuckle rather than heard it. Turning and looking at his trine mates he sighed. It sucked but he didn't care as much as before. Programming he thought. Fragging programming. "Blue? Sides?"

They looked up, hopeful. "What, Sunny" Bluestreak asked.

"I'm stuck."

Sideswipe smiled slightly. "We all are."

Sunstreaker looked at him for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Don't tell anyone. **Anyone**. Keep it to ourselves or I'll be hard to live with."

Sideswipe smiled and Bluestreak chuckled. "You mean more than you are **now**?"

Sunstreaker looked at Blue. "Ha-ha," he said his voice only slightly tinged with bitterness. He stared at the floor. "I **hate** this."

Sideswipe smiled. "We know."

=0=TBC

2010 (12)

* * *

**Chapter 125: Chapter 125**

* * *

The Diego Diaries: "New York, New York, it's a wonderful town!"

=0=New York

They gathered in Ops Center, the two striker teams that Prowl had organized with Jazz. Lennox, Epps and Graham had joined them representing the human element of the operation. They had received intel that stated a trade off would be made in Central Park in New York City in America. They had drawn up plans that would allow a team member to be placed at decent intervals around the vast estate to be able to link up quickly should something happen anywhere in the long expanse of the park proper.

The weapon was indeterminate but a plasma configuration was considered most likely. Of the Decepticons known to inhabit Earth since the security net was thrown up so tightly around the planet, Barricade with Frenzy, Payload and Sideways were the ones intel could confirm. Three others were not known by designation. Anyone could be the one giving the weapon over to the humans who Interpol said were freelance mercenaries.

Jazz would lead two on-ground teams consisting of himself, Sideswipe, Smokescreen, Bumblebee, Ironhide, Tracks and Blaster. They would be operating in two distinct groups breaking the park into two sections to cover more efficiently. The soldiers would be divided among them, boots on the ground should the humans decide to resist intervention. Prime would be airborne and await drop if necessary. First Aid would be chief medical officer of the operations flying in from Mars the day of muster.

Ironhide listening as the plans were laid out by Prowl felt the first tug of separation from his 'little buddy' who lay in his arm waving his servos in front of his face as if they were the most fascinating sight he ever saw.

=0=Medbay

He came in sulkily looking around to make sure no one saw him. Pausing, searching for Ratchet he walked to the office and waited for the medico to notice he was there sitting slumped in a chair with a sour expression. Ratchet noticing him right away decided to let him sit a moment as he fusticated around the main room doing this and that, getting a kit together for First Aid. Finally, he turned and walked to the door of his office looking inside with a smile. "Hello, Sunshine. Don't you look bright and cheery this morning?"

Sunstreaker looked at him a furious expression on his face. "I can leave you know."

"You will be back you know," Ratchet countered moving inside, closing the door behind him. He looked down at Sunstreaker taking in his abject misery and felt sadness pulsing through him. He himself had been ecstatic over the idea of being sparked but for Sunstreaker it was an ordeal, an embarrassment. But for his programming it would be a catalyst for violence. "So," he said walking to sit on his chair putting his peds on the desktop. "What do you want to know?"

Sunstreaker looked at him frowning almost reflexively and put his peds up too. "Everything. Nothing."

"Ah, the works and then some," Ratchet said smiling. "Well, when you get sparked you aren't an invalid. Get that notion out of your processor. You have a huge responsibility to yourself and your sparkling to behave and do the right thing. Anytime you don't feel you should consider Silverbow."

"What about her? She's fragging awesome," Sunstreaker replied fiercely. "I detailed her myself. That little Autobot symbol? She asked for it and I painted it on myself. I buff her and wax her once a decaorn to keep her shiny."

"Which is totally wonderful, Sunny," Ratchet said warmed at the thought of such things which he wasn't aware. "But Silverbow is behind. She is barely coming into her sparkling speech. She's not very structurally strong. She is fearful and susceptible to fracture due to poor nutrition for the developmental stages she was deprived. She is going to be slow catching up and some things never will."

"Like what?" Sunstreaker said sitting up. "She's fraggin' awesome."

"She is," Ratchet agreed. "But she didn't get what she needed when she was growing and even with a good protoform, which miraculously she got she is still weak and behind."

Sunstreaker looked at him a furious expression flashing across his face. "Another reason to kill Decepticons."

"I won't argue," Ratchet said placatingly. "But you see what a serious duty you have. Your sparkling **must** come first. You want a sparkling that is in great health all the way through or you will have the problems that poor little Silverbow has."

"She'll be alright won't she?" Sunstreaker said suddenly afraid. "She will … get better."

"She will," Ratchet said. "She will but her spark is not as strong as it could have been. We will have to help her and the little mechs. They all have the same problem but for the little mechs being older and the impact less prolonged when the critical growing was taking place. Spirit doesn't speak yet. He made a few chirps but he's traumatized as well. T-Bar can talk pretty well and Rambler is in good shape, the best shape considering. What happens to them when they are growing matters, Sunny. Do you understand?"

"I would never," Sunstreaker said sitting up with a fierce look on his face, "ever endanger a sparkling. I would die for them. They're fraggin' ours, Ratchet."

"So is yours," Ratchet said gently.

Sunstreaker sat back considering Ratchet's words then shook his helm, his face a desolation of sadness. "I hate this."

"I know," Ratchet said. "But when you get your sparkling, when Sideswipe and Bluestreak get the sparkling too and are amazed and so proud of you, you won't."

"Why, why, why? I want to break things. I want to kill something," he said quietly.

"But you won't."

It was silent a moment. Then he looked up enraged. "Fraggin' programming?"

Ratchet nodded. "We need it. We need to protect our young. We need to protect our carriers. Our species is in crisis. Until we get a handle on how many of our people are out there we cannot allow anything to happen to even one sparkling."

"There are refugees coming," Sunstreaker replied. "Two big groups. I heard there's a fraggin' mini-con village coming with some Autobot soldiers."

"Mini-cons," Ratchet said chuckling.

"Slaggin' mini-cons. Like we don't have enough already," Sunstreaker said with a slight grin. "Maybe Bumblebee's **real** genitors are in the mix."

They both snorted and smiled. Then the frown was back.

"You are eight orns into this. You have five decaorns and two orns to go. I want you to know you can't fight for now. Its too much stress on your spark and you might get slagged too."

The frown deepened.

"You have to behave, Sunstreaker. You and the others have to decide what you want. Then we can meet up with Wheeljack and Perceptor to design the protoform."

"I want a mech and a femme. What's the odds on twins?"

Ratchet reached into subspace pulling a scanner. He rose and passed it over Sunstreaker. "Looks like you will have to wait on one of them. You have one sparkling."

"I can choose, right?"

Ratchet nodded.

"Why did you choose a mech and why did you make him look like a mini-con version of Ironhide?" Sunstreaker asked relaxing slightly.

"I wanted a mech because I wanted Ironhide to have the first one be a mech. I knew he'd spoil a femme beyond repair and I think Ironhide is the most handsome mech I ever saw."

Sunstreaker smirked. "Love is blind?"

"Love is myopic," Ratchet said smirking back.

"Did it hurt much? I saw you screaming and dying on the med berth. I could tear my spark chamber out just thinking about it."

"It hurt a little," Ratchet said thinking back. "Actually, it just slaggin' hurt. But you've seen Orion. He's totally worth it."

"He's slaggin' cute even if he does have Ironhide's face," Sunstreaker agreed smiling slightly. "I've never held a sparkling that small before. Or a sparkling ever."

"I'll get him. Will you wait here?" Ratchet asked rising.

Sunstreaker sat a moment then nodded slightly. Ratchet grinned and walked to the door opening it, hurrying out of Medbay. Down the corridor he went entering Ops Center to take Orion from a reluctant Ironhide.

:I'll bring him back. Sunstreaker is in my office:

:Alright. But you will bring him back? Soon?:

:I will, Ironhide:

Ratchet smiled as he walked back entering the office pausing beside Sunstreaker. He looked at the front-liner who sat up looking nervous. "Here," Ratchet said holding Orion out. He placed him in Sunny's arms and walked to his chair sitting, settling in as he watched the big Lamborghini hold the sparkling.

Orion binky firmly in place looked at Sunstreaker, his little optics considering the new face holding him. It wasn't his sire. It wasn't his carrier but his carrier had given him to the yellow face. It must be all right so he began to wave his arms trying to touch Sunstreaker. He wanted to grab his finials and as he did Sunstreaker smiled.

So did Ratchet.

=0=Nast

He had made a call to his wife, a call that was overheard by the aliens. He had told her that he was doing a bit of serious business and would be out of touch a while longer. He told her to just trust him and be happy. He apologized to her for being late and for not being around for the holidays.

He listened to her tell about home, about people they knew and he tried not to crawl out of his skin. He was exhausted, traumatized and scared out of his mind. Her conversation grated on his ears, the normality of it and when he finally signed off he was glad. Ending up in the brig surrounded by energy bars and resentful employees he was glad. This place was the safest place he had right now and being here made him almost forget he was probably not going to live through the next month.

=0=The mission to New York

They gathered their gear piling it on the airstrip next to Silverbolt. The crews were getting weapons together, more than aware that nearby mercs from Daniels' group were watching them. Big mechs stood together talking, checking their munitions as they awaited the word to board.

"Those guys could rip our spines out with their bare hands," Tim Bolton, a new merc said snapping pictures with his cell phone, using two others to shield his actions.

"They scare the shit out of me," another new merc, Dustin Carter said. "I wouldn't go any closer to them than this."

"Daniels wants us to mess with them," Bolton said.

"Daniels is fucking nuts," Dustin replied turning to catch Bolton taking pictures. "That's out of bounds. You can get slammed if you get caught taking pictures."

Bolton turned Dustin and stepped behind him. "Stand still."

Dustin stepped away turning on Bolton. "No way, man. I'm not getting stepped on because you broke the rules."

"Pussy," Bolton said slipping the camera back into his pocket.

They paused watching as Optimus Prime himself stepped out and walked across the tarmac, his presence the go for boarding. Soldiers boarded, then Autobots, Prime being last. Then the huge jet turned taxiing a short distance before taking off almost effortlessly.

"He didn't use a runway," Seth Tomas another new merc said softly. "He didn't fucking use a runway."

"He's one of them, that jet. He's a robot too," Bolton said shaking his head. "Their plane is alive."

"I wouldn't want to piss them off," Ray Christie, another new merc said. "If he ever came after you where would you go?"

"To your death," Dustin said softly. The jet disappeared as he turned looking at the others. "Daniels can go fuck himself. I'm not getting myself killed provoking them. Where would you run to if they came after you? Have you seen the red and yellow ones? The Lamborghinis? I heard they came after a couple of soldiers who were pissing them off and nearly killed them."

"You are a woos," Bolton said turning with a grin. He began to walk back to the barracks. "Woos!"

"Better to be a living woos than a dead dumbass," Dustin said walking back with Christie and Tomas. "Bolton and Daniels are going to get us killed."

=0=Medbay

Ratchet sat looking at his computer, the data so many squiggly lines. He held Orion against his shoulder, the little sparkling patting him with his servo as he looked around binky firmly in place. Ratchet sat back and held him in front of himself looking at his little mini-con Ironhide with deep affection. "You're stuck with me, Orion, until Ironhide gets back. He's probably crying his spark out in the plane right now."

Orion listened to his creator then grinned. Ratchet awash in love and admiration at his sparklings great new trick of smiling in agreement with everything he said hugged Orion closely. "I love you, Orion. It won't be long before he's back. Until then you can keep me sober." Ratchet smiled and so did Orion. Then they both turned to the screen and tried to make sense of the squiggly lines.

=0=On the way to New York

Ironhide sat on the deck, his spark crushed. Leaving his sparkling was a bigger blow than he expected. He had carried Orion in the crook of his arm everywhere he went since the sparkling was separated. Now his arms felt empty. Leaning back, he closed his eyes replaying internally images of his sparkling and Ratchet. It would occupy his time until they reached New York when the dangers and details of arms smuggling intervention would take over.

=0=TBC 2010 (12-25)

* * *

**Chapter 126: Chapter 126**

* * *

The Diego Diaries: The City That Never Sleeps

=0=New York City

They sat in their designated areas, the city around them quieting down somewhat. Snow was everywhere and it was cold. Giant metallic street lamps threw pools of light at intervals The odd person would walk out of the darkness into one, then back into the darkness once more. They were parked at the major intervals along 5th Avenue, Central Park West, 59th Street and Central Park North. Overhead flying in a circle aboard Silverbolt above the flight lanes of commercial traffic Optimus Prime sat plugged in to the ground teams below.

Ironhide was parked at 85th Street, Will Lennox sitting in his cab with the heater running. It was cold and snowy, the streets almost empty of traffic and the evening was closing in around them. Outside, the night air was cold and crisp, the snow muffled sound and there was low visibility from an ice fog that had formed when the temperature began to drop.

Sideswipe and Epps were parked at the corner of Central Park East and East 65th, at the corner where the zoo was located. Jazz was roving, a pair of soldiers inside who would be boots on the ground if a chase ensued that did not allow for twenty five foot tall robotic pursuit. Tracks and two soldiers were parked at the corner of 5th Avenue and Central Park South waiting for something or the call to move. Blaster was roving along with Jazz, the two mirroring each other as they rolled around the park on opposite sides seeking the signs of a green van with an Ohio license plate that would be the target for their labors. As the night rolled on the cold intensified as the traffic dwindled into nothingness.

"I have only one thing to say."

"What, Jazz?" Ironhide turned up the radio for Lennox to listen to as well.

"I'm very glad there aren't any Seekers."

"You and me both," Ironhide replied. "Getting anything on your side?"

"Nothin'. Maybe we can let the soldiers go and they can comb the park," Jazz suggested. "Go into the places we can't."

Lennox nodded and made the call exiting the truck, disappearing into the park itself. With nearly 800 acres to travel they would be out for a while so the bots extended their nets to help catch not only Decepticon signals but to track their particular soldiers out in the park.

It was silent a while.

:Ironhide:

:Jazz:

:How ya holdin' up?:

:Not good:

:This feels like a bust. We'll be home before ya know it:

:Could be. Feels flat:

:It does. Have you told Lennox about your sparkling yet?:

:I forgot. I better. Ratchet'll be sore if I don't:

:Nothing like an out of sorts missus:

Ironhide chuckled. :I dare ya to say that to his face:

:Oh, no. I value my body parts right where they are:

They bantered back and forth for over an hour before the soldiers radioed to be picked up. The team regrouped and settled in again, Jazz comming Prime who was circling overhead. They waited longer, then Prime was commed by N.E.S.T. in Diego that the informant who had given them the information they were acting upon was found dead, eviscerated and stuffed into an oil drum. Obviously, he had outlived his purpose.

:Prime to Jazz:

:Jazz here:

:Wrap it up. We've been set up. The drop isn't here:

:On our way:

Jazz commed the team gathering everyone as together they turned and made their way to the airport for pick up. By the time they were lifting off at La Guardia the city was being snowed in, the airport closed to normal traffic and the game was afoot.

Ironhide sat next to Prime waiting for him to conclude an internal comm from Prowl in Diego Garcia. The others were lounging around, the soldiers in their secure area and the flight well on its way. Prime commed off. He glanced at Ironhide who sat across from him. "The informant was found murdered, cut into pieces and stuffed into an oil drum. The information he gave is not reliable. The authorities are using other sources and feel pretty secure that the weapon was passed off."

Ironhide shook his head angrily. "We got played."

"We did," Prime said grimly. "What we have to do is wait for it to show up some place. I am hoping that Intel-Martin gets first refusal. Right now, I think we need to monitor known arms dealers, their major clients in our databases and hope it's Intel-Martin or one of their two subsidiary companies."

Ironhide nodded with aggravation. "Fraggin' idiots. They don't even have the capacity with raw materials to make the weapons they were given safely. Some of the parts and materials don't exist here or they don't in ways that humans can refine."

"I know," Prime said shaking his head. "We have to get that weapon back."

"One more slaggin' thing to do," Ironhide said grimly. "Put it on the list."

=0=Ops Center

Prowl paced frustrated and angry. They had been suckered and now a Cybertronian weapon was in the hands of the humans. It was the same to him as giving a fragmentation grenade to Orion. The humans were squeezing their networks to find the weapon, the individuals who had passed and received it. They would have to retrieve it once it was found but until then they were only going to be able to watch and listen.

Shockwave had fired his first shot across their bow and scored a hit. They would have to up their game he considered pacing back and forth by the comm station waiting with uncharacteristic impatience for a message or intel. They had to get the weapon back.

=0=Over the Indian Ocean

Lennox moved through the plane walking to sit beside Ironhide. "Hey?"

Ironhide looked down, his reverie broken. "William."

"What's up?" Lennox asked settling on Ironhide's ped. "You look distracted."

"I am."

"I meant to ask you about Ratchet and the … you know."

"I know. The 'you know' is a go."

Lennox grinned broadly. "That's great, Ironhide. Congratulations. Which was it?"

"A mech."

"And Ratchet?"

"Up to fighting form."

"Wonderful. When can we come to see it? What did you name it?"

"You can come tomorrow. We named him Orion."

"Orion. Like the constellation?" Lennox asked inordinately pleased.

"Uh, like the Prime."

"Prime?"

"Orion Pax. That was Optimus's name before he became Prime."

"He had another name?"

"Yes."

"What about you? Do you have other names?"

Ironhide thought about that, about the names he had acquired over the vorns and the cute name that Ratchet murmured to him in the middle of an intense 'face. "No."

"Orion. That's … that's just great, Ironhide. When did this happen?"

"About ten orns ago. Ten or eleven."

"Wow. Only a little baby then."

Pause. "Yes."

"You miss him."

"Yes."

"Sort of makes you not want to talk doesn't it."

"Yes."

"Well, I'll let you go then." Lennox started to rise then Ironhide moved his servo to block him.

"Stay. Tell me about your sparkling."

Lennox looked at Ironhide, a misty film forming over his eyes. "Well, she's pretty wonderful," he began.

=0=Diego Garcia, later

They came in and landed, walking and rolling off the jet with a sense of frustration and anger. Prime walked toward N.E.S.T. with the soldiers, Prowl waiting to go with him as well. Ironhide rolled to the door, transformed, walking inside and down the roadway to the quarters punching in his code to enter. It was dark and the lights were off but he could see Ratchet's supine form and the little bed where Orion was recharging.

He walked to the bed looking at his little one smelling his particular aroma, looking him over carefully. He was perfect Ironhide concluded so he walked to the table and disarmed, moving quietly to the berth where he reclined, venting his weariness and frustration softly.

"Ironhide?"

He turned his helm watching as Ratchet rolled over and looked at him, a smile on his face. Leaning down, they kissed softly, Ironhide's arm coming around Ratchet's chassis. "Ratchet."

"You look tired. Pretty neat trick Shockwave cooked up."

"He'll get his. They always do."

"I know."

"How was Orion?" Ironhide asked moving to accommodate Ratchet who lay down in his arms.

"He was a champion. He's rather well thought of already."

"I can see that," Ironhide said with a smile. "I missed him so much."

"He missed you. He had to make do with me and the rest of the base. I think Sunstreaker rather loved on him too."

"How's that train wreck coming along?"

"Slowly. His programming is keeping him from being out of hand but he's still touchy and fuming. He does loves sparklings though. He just didn't want to be the one to spark."

"Then he has to pay attention. His ego is going to be the death of us all."

Ratchet snorted. "But his sparkling is going to be … how did he put it? The 'fraggin' most beautiful one in the universe'."

"So they settled on a femme?" Ironhide asked curiously.

"No. It will be a mech."

Pause.

"Figured him for a femme the way he looks after Silverbow."

"He told me that he buffs and waxes her every decaorn so she'll shine."

"He does. He comes in and lets her sit on his lap too. I look in on the younglings. Prime wants me to. It's real sweet to watch him with her. She really loves him back."

"That's good."

A comm signal broke their reverie and Ratchet answered. :Ratchet:

:We need you in Medbay: Jazz said.

:On my way: Ratchet rose and paused, Ironhide holding his servo. "What's up?" he asked.

"Don't know. Gotta go to Medbay." He turned and leaned down kissing Orion softly. Then he turned to walk to the door.

"Don't be long," Ironhide said.

"Won't be," Ratchet said walking out the door. It closed softly and Ironhide lay still for a moment ruminating on how much cooler the temperature of the room had just become. Rising, he walked to the little bed his son lay in and gently picked him up. Turning, he walked back to the berth and lay down settling the infant next to him. With a smile of contentment, he fell into a light recharge waiting for Ratchet to return.

=0=TBC 2010 (12)

* * *

**Chapter 127: Chapter 127**

* * *

The Diego Diaries: Shift Change

=0=On the way back from Medbay

Ratchet walked along nodding to the night shift who were just going off duty from Ops Center. It was early morning and he had been up all night helping via video the separation of Gear Shift's little femme. It had been a rousing success, the second sparkling born in their new city and he felt a lightness of step even as he was weary through to his superstructure.

Entering the cabin he walked softly to his side of the berth and smiled looking down at Ironhide and Orion lying together, Orion cuddled into Ironhide's chassis, his big arm around the little bundle. He stood watching them, the incongruous sight of one of the fiercest warriors he had ever seen so tender with the tiny sparkling that had become his constant and boon companion.

Moving with care, he lay down beside them lying on his side resting his helm on his crooked arm. Staring at them, the large economy size and the pocket size of the same individual, he felt once more thrilled that he had been so adamant that they resemble each other. The tiny bands of yellow were crisp and bright against the satiny black of his sparkling's protoform. It was altogether a handsome effect. Two handsome mechs all his own, two, count them two.

Orion was sleeping just as soundly as his sire and he looked so sweet that Ratchet had to hold his servos still rather than risk awakening him from his recharge. Ironhide shifting slightly moved his arm closer to his chassis pulling the little bundle closer, then fell back into recharge. Ratchet smiled and thought about how fortunate he was in his personal and professional life. As he did Ironhide stirred, then his optics opened, pools of blue in the darkness. "Ratchet?"

"Hi."

"What happened?"

"Gear Shift separated. A femme."

Ironhide smiled. "Cute, I imagine."

"Luminously beautiful."

He reached out and pulled Ratchet closer, the infant between them disappearing into the shadows of their bodies. Ratchet put an arm over Ironhide too, leaning in to kiss him. "You thought he was lonely in his little bed?"

"Called to me."

"He did? What did he say?"

"Come and get me. I miss you."

Ratchet chuckled. "Projecting are we?"

"Probably," Ironhide said smiling. "I could see it in his little face though so it's probably true anyway."

"Well, we can't make a habit of it. Either of us roll over and he's done for."

"I have him on a proximity sensor," Ironhide said peering down into the darkness at his little sparkling. "I get within a filament's breadth an alarm goes off."

"Ah, good thinking."

"I'm glad you think so."

It was quiet a moment. Then Ratchet grinned. "We haven't 'faced since his separation."

"I know. A mech can get down in the back without a little of the old Sexy."

Ratchet grinned. "I would hate to have you get down in the back. I would have to take you out of the duty schedule. You would have to be one of them stay-at-home dads taking care of the sparklings and cleaning house and all."

"Wouldn't mind," Ironhide said with a grin. "Could get used to that idea."

"Cleaning house or taking care of the sparklings?"

"Is this a test?" he asked smirking.

"You wouldn't pass it. I see that there is still slag here that belongs in your locker."

"I'll move it tomorrow. Orion and I, we'll do it together. We have a system."

"A system?"

"Yeah. I do the work and he watches. He's amazingly good at watching."

"He is that," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "You have him tomorrow. I have to do physicals and the refugees are getting closer every day."

"Such hard duty," Ironhide said grinning. "We'll try and get along."

"Keep a firm hand, Ironhide," Ratchet said with a smirk. "Just keep a firm hand."

They both looked down at the sleeping sparkling and smiled. Then they drifted off into recharge together.

=0=Later that morning

Sunstreaker stood on the tarmac waiting for Silverbolt to load. He stood with Bluestreak who had his arms around the yellow Lamborghini and his brother stood beside him holding his duffel bag. Beyond them over by the Aerialbots monsoon hangars, mercs lounged and watched them as they gathered to go.

Sunstreaker was irritated and more edgy than usual. It was bad enough being sparked without having to rotate out to Autobot City too. He wasn't an invalid, Ratchet had said so he still had his regular duty. Sideswipe and Bluestreak had asked about his placement on the duty schedule but Prowl had said without a notice from Ratchet he was good to go as long as he paced himself. They were nervous about him being gone and he was irritated about going.

At the call, they parted Sunstreaker kissing Bluestreak and nodded to his brother, duffel in servo as he walked up the ramp. They waited until it closed and Silverbolt rolled away taking off without runway toward the sky above. They watched it disappear, then turned walking back to the hangar. As they did, Sideswipe paused watching the mercs staring at them. He saw a camera and then he saw it flash. Turning, whispering to Bluestreak he skated toward them, the mercs turning to run. He passed by and cut them off, the group stopping to stare at him terrified.

Bluestreak terrified as well called for Prowl over their internal comm system and moved forward pausing near the fracas. Sideswipe, an expression of murder on his face moved slowly toward them, his swords sheathing and unsheathing as he went. Bluestreak called to him catching his attention for a moment. Behind him charging out of the door of the hangar Prowl and Jazz hurried.

Bluestreak turned and stepped toward them fear on his face as he waited for them to catch up. They all paused, the three turning toward Sideswipe. "Sideswipe, what is going on here?" Prowl asked his tone calm and low.

"These fraggers are taking pictures of us. I saw their camera and a flash." He looked at Prowl with an enraged expression. "They're taking pictures of us in violation of the rules."

Prowl looked at them and moved forward stopping next to Sideswipe. "You need to give me your cameras and phones."

Tim Bolton looked at Prowl and shook his head. "No I don't."

"You do," Prowl said taking a step closer. "You can give them to me or you can give them to the officer of the day when you get thrown into the soldier's brig."

"Call the soldiers," Bolton said defiantly.

"I already have," Prowl said turning as a jeep careened around the corner and drove toward them. It screeched to a halt as Epps jumped out followed by Graham.

"Prowl?" Epps said jogging to stand between the Autobots and the mercs.

"Sergeant Epps, these mercenaries were taking pictures of our soldiers in violation of the regulations. We need to take their cameras and phones to ensure that the images don't get sent out."

"You can't take our gear," Bolton said turning on Epps defiantly. "We don't have to give them to you. We are with Daniels."

Epps, filled with fury stepped forward. "And I'm with Uncle Sam. If you don't give me the cameras and your phones I will have to take them."

"You can try," Bolton said squaring his stance for a fight.

Prowl and Sideswipe watching intently glanced at Epps. He was livid and ready to go. As Prowl opened his mouth to speak, Epps' arm flashed out, his fist catching Bolton on the jaw. Bolton staggered and corrected moving toward Epps with speed and fury. They clashed, the two trading blows. Then Epps connected again, the merc falling on his backside to sit dazed.

"You ready to give up, merc or do I kick your ass some more?" Epps asked his fists up and his feet moving as he watched the figure on the ground.

Ray Cristie, the other merc with him stepped in and took the camera and phone from Bolton's pocket handing him the two items and his own phone. "I wasn't taking any pictures."

"Don't give a damn," Epps said hotly as he handed them back to Niall Graham. "Get your sorry asses out of here before I drag them to the brig myself."

Cristie grabbed Bolton's arm and dragged him up, the hothead shrugging off the other man. He looked at Epps, then the two Autobots. "You will be sorry you did this."

Prowl looking at Bolton with a bland emotionless expression shook his head. "I'm sure I won't."

The two turned and walked back in the direction of the barracks enraged and furious. Epps and Graham turning to watch looked at Prowl and Sideswipe. "You two all right?"

Prowl nodded. Glancing back at the two disappearing mercs he turned to look at Epps. "Nice punches."

"Thanks," Epps said grinning slightly. "Felt good to hit one of them finally."

"I can imagine," Prowl said with a slight grin. "The cameras and phones?"

"We'll go over them and if they took pictures we'll take it up with Daniels. Thank you for calling us, Prowl. We don't like this anymore than you do."

Prowl nodded. "Thank you for your intervention. I don't want trouble but they seem to insist. One would think they were told to provoke."

"I'm sure they were," Epps said nodding as he walked to the jeep. They both entered and pulled out driving toward their building. The Autobots watched them go. Prowl turned to Bluestreak and Sideswipe. "Next time call us and allow us cover when they do something like this. Without the right people and bots here this could look really bad even if they turn out to be wrong."

Sideswipe nodded. Bluestreak walked to him and hugged him. Prowl watched the mercs disappear from sight, then looked at the two. "How is Sunstreaker?"

"Impossible. He hates this so much," Bluestreak said sadly. "But he doesn't get violent. He just moans and groans about it."

"He's doing what he's supposed to isn't he?" Prowl asked.

"He is," Sideswipe said moving with the two as they turned to walk with Jazz to the hangar. "He's sort of divided about this. Most of the time he's angry and sulking but then he will say something that's happy and glad about it. I don't know."

"Well, we just have to help him," Prowl said entering the hangar.

Jazz smiled and slapped Sideswipe on the back. "Eyes on the prize, my son. Eyes on the prize."

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They arrived and settled into barracks walking to the rec room for a meal. Sunstreaker not the best company in normal times was in a funk and not having it from anyone. Most of the mechs who were used to his pattern avoided him when he was this out of sorts. But as he walked to a table to sit and sip his energon alone he found himself near to the mini-cons who had their own permanent table next to his.

He sat staring into his energon and considered the next seven orns on duty at this station. Around the room as Autobots relaxed Ultra Magnus and Kup entered spotting him. Magnus paused beside Springer a moment as Kup continued getting energon and moving to sit beside Sunstreaker. "What's up, Sunny?" he asked putting his peds on an empty chair.

Sunstreaker who loved the old mech just shrugged. "Stuck here for a few orns in rotation."

"Well, we'll try and make it worth your while," Kup said. "I'll have you detailed to me."

Sunstreaker warming to the idea nodded. "Thanks, Kup."

Cliffjumper watching him with his usual disdain snorted. "What's the matter, Sunshine? You too good to be stationed here?"

Smoldering optics affixed themselves to the red mini-con as a feral look informed Sunstreaker's beautiful features. He clutched his energon tightly and stared. Cliffjumper, hotheaded and suffering from small mech syndrome ignored the warning signals. He leaned forward to sneer at Sunstreaker. "Too good. Too arrogant. Too much of a femme to stay here where the living is harder."

That was all that Cliffjumper got out before Sunstreaker launched himself over the top of the table, the top of Kup who had straightened up to turn around on Cliffjumper and over the top of the mini-con table. He launched himself landing on his prey, disappearing into a spray of shattered furniture and overturned mechs.

=0=TBC c2010 (12)

* * *

**Chapter 128: Chapter 128**

* * *

The Diego Diaries: Ricochet

=0=Diego Garcia

Sideswipe was shooting on the range with Bluestreak when the ruckus on Mars commenced. For a moment they were smiling and talking, laughing about the targets, then they paused, a terrible expression of rage and fury informing their features. Turning, looking at the hangar they moved together bursting into speed, racing as fast as they could go. Bluestreak pausing before the hangar door turned in circles screaming loudly and shrilly. He paused balling his fists, turning slowly as he seemed to search for something.

Sideswipe racing to the airstrip turned around and around seeking something as he growled in a thunderous manner, his optics bleeding into white. He rolled toward a C-17, his threatening appearance scaring off the crews that were loading it. He rolled inside turning around and around as he struggled to understand what he was so completely compelled to do.

Emergency calls were made and from the hangar of the Autobot Embassy mechs bearing arms poured out. Bluestreak turning to see the threat come toward him pulled his weapon from subspace and turned it up to fire. As he did he was tackled by Mirage and Jazz, the two of them bringing him down pulling his rifle free. Then Bluestreak through superhuman strength rose up and shook them loose. Turning, he pounced on Mirage and they went down.

At the plane feeling Bluestreak over his bond Sideswipe turned to roll downward rushing toward the Embassy with his swords drawn. Bluestreak buried under Jazz, Mirage, Smokescreen and Prowl cried out piercingly. Sideswipe hearing him hurried up and as he did he flew through the air swords flashing.

=0=Autobot City, Mars

It was a thundering crash, the sound of breaking furniture and falling screaming mechs. Sunstreaker, his focus on the throat of Cliffjumper landed squarely on him and they fell rolling over. He stood enraged, the mech's neck in his servos. Then he turned tossing the mini-con over the top of tables. Cliffjumper flying head over heels landed on a table and crushed it.

By the time that Sunstreaker moved to follow him he was swarmed by Kup and Springer, Ultra Magnus stepping between Sunstreaker and Cliffjumper who lay on the floor dazed. It took all three of them to drag Sunstreaker to the brig cursing and fighting all the way. By the time they switched on the current of the bars he had turned on them staring with murder in his optics. Then he paused.

=0=Diego Garcia

They heard the ruckus, the screams, the shouting and by the time that Ironhide and Prime had reached the doors Sideswipe was flashing toward the pile up in front with his swords gleaming. Moving faster than one would assume a mech as big as Prime could he jumped the pile and rushed Sideswipe tackling him mid body, falling forward, landing on the Lamborghini with a crashing sound that jolted windows and shelves all around. More mechs poured out and they watched with astonishment as Sideswipe and Prime dueled, rolling on the ground until Prime pinned him flat.

He lay on the ground growling and screaming, Bluestreak likewise as he was pinned to the ground by four mechs. For a moment it seemed that they would continue forever, then Ratchet appeared pausing stunned at the sight. He glanced at Ironhide who was handing his sparkling off to Wheeljack who stood frozen on the spot. Turning to move toward Prime and Sideswipe, he paused looking at the Lamborghini as he abruptly stopped struggling.

Behind him buried under mechs, Bluestreak paused as well. Prime looking over his shoulder called to Ratchet who turned and hurried to him kneeling beside Prime. "What happened?" he asked looking at the slowly calming Sideswipe lying beneath Prime.

"You tell us," Prime said looking up, the strain of exertion clear upon him.

Ratchet looked at Bluestreak behind him and Sideswipe next to him and got it. "The programming … the protection programming. Sunny. He must be in trouble."

=0=The Brig, Autobot City, Mars

He stood paused listening to the tumult reaching him over their bond. It was massive, a tidal wave of emotions and mindless rage. He stood and absorbed it feeling calm almost at once. It was right what they were doing, it was good and right and he waited for them to do what they had to do. They would protect him, the sparkling and him. He would be safe now so he stood listening as outside the bars Springer, Kup and Ultra Magnus watched with loathing and dread.

=0=The Embassy, Diego Garcia

The buildings all around emptied out as people swarmed to the sound of chaos and murder. They grouped together not willing to come too close and watched as Ratchet moved between the two Autobots that were down and the mechs who were holding them. Ratchet knelt beside Sideswipe, the mech pinned firmly by Prime. "Sideswipe!" he called out loudly. He repeated himself and finally drew the mech's attention, the streaks of blue in his optics pooling and gathering, the white hot rage bleeding away as he calmed. He just stared at Ratchet, his vents racing as he expelled the heat that had gathered over every square inch of himself during the brief moment of madness.

"Sideswipe!" Bluestreak screamed tugging at the servos that held him, failing to free himself.

Sideswipe hearing Blue cry screamed himself trying to break free. Ironhide knelt and helped Prime hold him as he struggled. Ratchet rose and hurried to Bluestreak kneeling beside him. "Bluestreak!" he cried out, the gunner looking at him with wild optics. For a moment, he struggled and growled, then he paused falling limp from exertion. He lay quietly his optics shuttered as he vented heat from his body. Then he on-lined them and looked with bewilderment at Ratchet. "Ratchet? What's happening?"

Ratchet arose and walked to Sideswipe who lay quietly, his optics off-line. Kneeling, he touched Sideswipe's face turning it toward him. He looked at Ratchet for a moment uncomprehending, then blinked his optics. "Ratchet?"

Ratchet tapped Prime and nodded, the big mech carefully climbing off. Sideswipe lay a moment exhaustion evident, then sat up groggily. He glanced at Bluestreak and rose quickly stumbling toward Blue as he sat dazed on the ground. He knelt and gripped Bluestreak looking him over carefully, sniffing him, measuring him with his optics. "Blue?"

"Sideswipe … where's Sunny? What's happened to Sunny?" Blue said rising unsteadily, gripping Sideswipe's arm. They turned and looked around, confusion and fear gripping them, then they moved forward stumbling toward the airfield.

Ironhide blocked their way and Sideswipe pushed him. "We have to find Sunny!"

"You have to stop," Ironhide said gripping Sideswipe's arms. He turned noting Ratchet standing silently evidently listening to an internal comm. They all turned to him and waited, Ratchet nodding. Then he turned looking at them.

"Sunstreaker is all right," Ratchet said.

The expressions of relief on Blue and Sideswipe were painful to see and Blue turned hugging Sideswipe desperately. He looked at Ratchet confusion on his face. "What's happening? We have to see Sunstreaker."

"I know," Ratchet said moving toward them. "Come to Medbay with me. Then we'll take care of the rest." He turned to Prime. "This is programming, just like with me and Ironhide. I have to shut it down."

Prime nodded watching as Ratchet turned and tugged on the two mechs. As they moved, Sideswipe turned to look at Prime with an expression of grief and disbelief. "Prime … I don't ..."

Prime cut him off. "Go with Ratchet, Sideswipe. We'll talk later."

Sideswipe looked around himself then nodded, slipping his arm around Bluestreak. The two followed Ratchet and disappeared into the building. Everyone stood quietly a moment, then they turned, the mechs dispersing. Lennox and Epps standing nearby walked to Prowl and Prime who knelt to explain what had happened.

Sort of.

=0=Brig, Autobot City, Mars

Ultra Magnus logged off Ratchet's call and turned looking at Sunstreaker for a moment in surprise. Of all the mechs he ever knew who would spark, he never figured this one would. It was indeed an accident for it to happen. "Sunstreaker?"

The big yellow mech sat staring at the floor, his arms crossed in front of his spark chamber. He didn't hear Magnus. His focus was on the bond.

Magnus turned glancing at Inferno. "Shut off the bars."

Inferno reluctantly complied as Magnus walked inside sitting beside Sunstreaker. He touched his arm gently. "Sunstreaker? Can you hear me?"

Sunny paused looking at Magnus. For a moment he didn't see him, then he did. He nodded.

"Blue and Sideswipe are fine. Do you understand?"

Sunstreaker already knew that. They had protected him. They had come to his rescue. He didn't know where they were at the moment but they had come to his rescue. He nodded.

"We need to get you back to Diego. Come on," he said tugging Sunstreaker's arm.

=0=Medbay, Diego Garcia

Bluestreak and Sideswipe sat on a med berth numerous cords plugged into them. Ratchet watched data flash past on the screens above them and when he found what he wanted he paused the scan. "There it is. It's so archaic it's in the basic foundation codes of our CNA."

"What can you do about it?" Prime asked looking at the screen, seeing only data that he couldn't read.

"I can write and download code that will prevent activation," Ratchet said picking up a small hand held computer.

"Can you download it into everyone? I don't want anything more to happen because of this. We've been lucky so far."

"What did happen?" Prowl asked moving to stand beside Bluestreak, squeezing his servo.

"Apparently, Cliffjumper decided to run his mouth against Sunny and ended up being thrown across the rec room," Ratchet said looking up from his computer.

Prime frowned. "Were there witnesses?"

"Kup and Magnus for a couple," Ratchet said with a grin. "You know the mini-cons. Some of them don't know when to shut their pie holes."

"Sunstreaker is all right?" Bluestreak asked anxiously.

"He is. Funny thing, the moment you two went off he stopped," Ratchet said smiling. "Interesting."

"If you say so, Ratchet," Prime said unamused. "We're sending for Sunstreaker but Sideswipe, we need you to take his shift."

Sideswipe nodded glancing at Bluestreak who squeezed his servo. Prime turned to Ratchet. "Let me know what is possible. I want everyone to get the code unless that violates ethics."

"I don't see how," Ratchet said nodding. "I'll start with Ironhide and me after these two."

Prime nodded and turned walking out with Prowl. Ironhide, Orion in the crook of his arm sat nearby watching. Ratchet glanced at them and grinned. "Taking a break from moving your slag?"

"We're union. Its legal," Ironhide said with a smile.

"Ah. Well then, by all means," Ratchet said with a smirk. He turned and began to download code into Sideswipe and Bluestreak, the two waiting silently. When he was done he removed the plugs and smiled. "You're good to go."

Bluestreak nodded and turned waiting for Sideswipe who looked at Ironhide. "Do you think Prime's going to be mad at me?"

"Nope."

Sideswipe grinned in spite of himself, then stood up walking out the door with Bluestreak. Ratchet watched them go shaking his head slightly. "Young love."

Ironhide snorted. "Mating rituals of the young and stupid."

"Were you never young, Ironhide?" Ratchet asked grinning at him as he rose walking to sit on the berth.

"Never," he said grinning.

"Me neither," Ratchet replied with a chuckle. He plugged in Ironhide and himself, then a slender plug for Orion.

"Him too?" Ironhide asked watching as his sparkling fussed, his little optics narrowing in displeasure.

"Don't want any scenes in pre-school," Ratchet said with a smirk.

Ironhide smirked back. "No. We don't want that."

=0=Cosmos

He landed, mechs and cargo offloaded including Sunstreaker. He was met by Bluestreak and Sideswipe who hugged him and compared notes. Then as Cosmos prepared to leave, Sideswipe picked up his duffel and weapons walking up and into the shuttle. He stood at the door until it closed, then walked to the front and sat down leaning against a bulkhead resting his helm on his knees all the way to Mars.

=0=Lennox, Epps and Graham

They drove in for the weekly meeting but they came early today. Today, they would see the little mech. They had heard only a snippet here and there but no more. Walking across the tabletop, they took their seats and waited. Autobots were filing in and they chatted as they waited for the rest to show. Ratchet walked in grinning broadly.

"Hi, Will, Bobby, Niall," he said affably settling down in his chair.

"Hey, Ratchet. What happened? Prime told us it was medical," Bobby asked.

"It was. Damned youngin's don't take their supplements," Ratchet said only half telling the truth.

"I'm sure Daniels will have a different spin on it. You might be ready for that when the hearings happen," Niall said.

"I'll be ready," Ratchet said glancing up as Ironhide, Prowl and Prime walked in at last.

Ironhide sat down, his infant firmly in place. The soldiers seeing it rose and walked closer, smiling.

"Hey, Ironhide," Lennox began. "He has your face. I think."

"What's that in his mouth?" Graham asked peering closely at the infant who was looking back at them with big round optics.

"That's a binky," Lennox said glancing at his partner. "You don't have kids. You would know that those things are a godsend."

Ironhide and Ratchet grinned, then Ironhide moved to set the infant on the tabletop. He parked and sat looking at them with unblinking optics.

"He's really cute," Lennox said smiling at the three foot tall carbon copy of Ironhide who sat looking up at them. He knelt and stroked the infant's cheek touching his finials. "Those are so cute." He looked at Ironhide. "How is it that the same thing on him looks so good, Ironhide and well, you on the other hand ..."

Everyone laughed but Ironhide who merely grinned.

"That sparkling is one devilishly handsome little sparkling," Ratchet said defending Ironhide with a grin.

"He's going to break sparks some day," Ironhide said grinning. "Pretty near perfect sparkling if you ask me."

"His nose … it's so cute," Epps said squatting in front of the sparkling. "It's pug like yours. But on him it looks good."

General laughter broke out. Ironhide just smirked. "Smart afts."

"What does he look like without the binky?" Lennox asked.

Ironhide leaned forward turning the infant around. Then he took the binky's ring and began to pull. Orion clenching down grinned around it thinking his good ole sire was playing. He tugged himself as they leaned back and forth neither side letting go. Then Ironhide gave it a stronger tug and it came out with a pop.

Orion looking around at the chuckling audience looked at his sire with the deepest expression of betrayal and disbelief he could muster. Then with a scrunching of his optics and his little face he burst into tears. He sat limply, his arms hanging at his side, then fell face first onto his legs lying limp and wailing.

Ironhide, his optics as large as truck tires looked at his son reaching down to lift his chin, sitting him back up. He wailed and when Ironhide removed his hand he fell face first back downward. Ratchet reaching out to lift him settled him in his arm and took the binky inserting it into Orion's mouth. He stopped crying, looking at his sire with the most perturbed expression of disbelief possible before settling down again.

Lennox, Epps and Graham watching Orion, then Ironhide smiled. "Well, we know who wears the pants in this family."

Ironhide looked at them, then reached for and took his son back holding him up to kiss him. "Ratchet wears the pants in our family doesn't he?" Ironhide said with a smile.

Orion looking at him with teary optics smiled around his binky too.

=0=TBC 2010 (12)

* * *

**Chapter 129: Chapter 129**

* * *

The Diego Diaries: Date with a demon

=0=Ops Center

The senior staff gathered around Teletraan II looking at the intel that had come through the night before. There was a list of e-mails included confirming a meet up with 'Night Flyer' at a mansion he had rented in Aspen, Colorado. It was not far from the house that Nast owned. In one week they were expected to gather, Nast, Galloway, Daniels, Weaver and Shockwave. The Autobots would be there too.

They discussed the situation together, who would do what and how they would not only ensure that Nast would be there and on his game but how they themselves would be able to listen in to collect data. It was not completely clear why Shockwave had murdered the informant in the weapons exchange. It could be that he was just keeping loose ends tidy or that somehow he had found them out.

"I am leaning toward him tidying things up. He hasn't spiked the connection or used anything to trace back to us. So far, our connection is clean and functioning. Nothing Cybertronian appears to be working against us over the connection," Prowl said quietly. "There is nothing in the e-mails to indicate that he has suspicions and there are no indications that he has increased the number of active Decepticons here on the Earth."

"I would like to enter this with the idea that he has suspicions but with obvious caveats. It could be that he's just that ruthless. He could just be closing paths that might lead back to him. We do have the Seekers and he might know that or he might not. We don't know and can't second guess anything. We've seen worse from him but I don't want to take chances. I want our stakeout to be there days in advance. This is a resort area. If we can't use Nast's house as a base then I want to hire a house nearby. We have to be especially careful," Prime said. He turned to Lennox who with Fulton, Epps and Graham listened while sitting on the console. "We need you to help us with that aspect and to be boots on the ground. Do any of you ski?" he asked with a grin.

Epps and Graham smiled. "We do," Epps said glancing at Lennox. "He doesn't. Maybe you can learn."

Prime grinned. "Nice cover, teaching him. The chalet that Shockwave rented is on a ski run."

"Well, a duty I can finally get into," Graham said smiling.

"Good," Prime replied. "Then to Snowmass you go."

=0=Medbay

Sunstreaker sat on a berth, Bluestreak next to him, his arm around the yellow Lamborghini. He bore his usual frown, his tension evident in every curve of his elegant form. Bluestreak leaned on his shoulder, the cords plugged into each of them downloading code. Ratchet turning to walk to them with a scanner ran it over the Lambo. "How do you feel, Sunstreaker?"

He shrugged diffidently looking away from both of them with a sour expression. Ratchet pausing looked at the two and felt a pang. "You know, Sunstreaker, you were lucky you didn't hurt yourself and the sparkling."

Sunny's helm jerked up. "I wouldn't hurt any sparkling, Ratchet. Not mine or anyone else."

"Fighting with Cliffjumper was hardly a good idea."

"He's lucky to be in one piece, the fragger. If I see him again he's going to be sorry he was born."

Bluestreak squeezed Sunstreaker's shoulders. "He was a slagger to talk to you like that."

Sunstreaker looked at Bluestreak, nodding. "He could have made it all public. He didn't." Sunstreaker looked at Ratchet sharply. "You didn't tell them did you?"

"Just Magnus."

Sunstreaker's expression turned to poison and he dropped his helm shaking it in aggravation. Ratchet reached over and raised his helm fixing him with a sharp gaze. "He had a right to know that you had reasons beyond your reputation to do what you did. Cliffjumper is in the brig and will be for thirty days."

Sunstreaker considering this, smiled. "Good."

"I agree," Ratchet said with a slight smile of his own. "I asked Prime to keep you here until separation. What I want to know is do you want to separate here or on Mars?"

"I don't want to do it at all," Sunstreaker said fiercely.

"Well then what is your second option? Earth or Mars?" Ratchet persisted. "Or do you need to hold Orion a bit longer before you decide to accept reality or not?"

Sunstreaker looked at Ratchet with an expression that anyone else would have fled but Ratchet merely returned the gaze waiting for him to decide. He did. "I would like to hold Orion for a while," he said softly.

Bluestreak smiled and squeezed his shoulders. Looking at Ratchet expectantly, he stepped down tugging Sunstreaker to his peds. Turning, Blue pulled Sunny into Ratchet's office, the two sitting on the couch as Ratchet turned to find his sparkling. Bluestreak slid his arm around Sunny's shoulders kissing him on the cheek. "Are you going to be okay?"

"No." [intense frown]

"You really planted Cliffjumper good?"

"Yes." [savage smile]

"I love you."

He looked at Bluestreak and nodded squeezing his servo tightly. "I hate this."

"We know," Bluestreak said with a grin.

=0=Ops Center

"I need him for a moment."

"You do?" [pout]

"Sparkling therapy."

"For Sunstreaker?"

"Yes."

Ironhide reluctantly coughed up his sparkling, Ratchet taking the infant and smiling as he kissed Orion several times on his little face. The infant chirped at his carrier bringing the room to a halt for a moment. Then Ratchet tucked him into his arm and turned. Ironhide gripped his arm for a moment. "You **will** bring him back."

Ratchet grinned. "Yes, Ironhide, I **will** bring him back."

"We have a date with the armory. We have to finish storing my munitions and it's like my old mentor used to say. 'It isn't a job if it doesn't have a straw boss'."

"Old Hercy used to say that?" Ratchet asked remembering a bot as old as the universe.

"All the time."

"As he sat on his aft being the straw boss," Ratchet said grinning.

"Of course," Ironhide said with a grin. "Don't be too long. He will miss me."

Ratchet looked at the sparkling lying in his arms looking at them with his usual unknowable expression. "I can see that." Then he turned and walked away aware that Ironhide's optics followed him all the way out of the door.

=0=Medbay

He entered and walked to his office pausing at the door. Sunstreaker was slouched on the couch, Bluestreak whispering into his audials his arms around the big front liner. They looked up and Bluestreak sat up smiling. Sunstreaker slumping looked at the little sparkling. Ratchet held him out and Sunstreaker took him leaning back, looking at the little infant who looked back with his unwavering gaze. 

Yellow Face was back.

Ratchet turned and sat at his desk busying himself with his work, ignoring the two as they sat nearby enjoying his infant. Bluestreak was loving, vocal and Sunstreaker was silent. A surreptitious glance now and again let him know that Orion therapy was good for the sullen Lambo. He held Orion gently, touched his little digits and peds gently, looked at him intensely, enjoying his company silently.

Ratchet smiled. Again.

=0=Outside at the air field

They gathered on the tarmac, striker teams that would be going to Colorado. Perceptor and Wheeljack were included as they would be running intel collection and monitoring Nast. Nast would come out later on closer to the date of the meet up with Prime who would oversee the entire operation. When he did he would be as ready as he could as well as wired for sound and video.

Ratchet had placed a tiny transmitter into Nast's ear, one that was designed to mask detection. He also placed a number of other bits of metal around the human's body as a counter measure, all of them mimicking normal surgical enhancements for injuries in humans. They were of Terran metallic design and composition, enough here and there to make one more if detected seem innocuous. They knew Shockwave would scan. They hoped he would be fooled.

Nast for his part was terrified. He was caught between two immovable forces, the Autobots and the Decepticons. Either way he had little to hope for beyond keeping his skin. He couldn't even appeal to the U. S. government for sanctuary so great and clear was his treachery.

The soldiers had been finally brought up to speed on the entire matter. They had asked to speak to Nast, a request that was granted. They had met in the brig, the three and Colonel Fulton looking at him with something akin to hatred. Fulton began. "You need to talk to us and tell us everything you can, Mr. Nast. If one of my men or any of the Autobots dies because of what you've done you will hang. I will personally hold the rope."

Nast swallowed hard glancing at the other three in the brig besides himself, then he began. When he was done telling every thing he knew and all the supposition that he could manage they left him without a word.

Entering Silverbolt, the two teams, the soldiers and the two scientists took off heading for the snow covered Rocky Mountains and a date with a demon from another world.

=0=In the armory earlier

Orion back with his sire sat on a box watching as the big black center of his entire universe stacked things in a locker. It was already packed with munitions and weapons, rifles and guns of all sizes hanging on hooks along the inside walls. Ironhide keeping a running commentary about what he was doing moved things around and put the last bit of the dangerous stuff that was kept around the quarters since before their good fortune to spark into a safer containment.

Turning, he grinned at the infant, a tiny black and yellow bit of fluff sitting on a stack of grenade boxes. He looked so cute and so sweet that Ironhide had to pause and manage the emotions that arose in him. Walking to the infant, he paused. "You are one cute little thing," he said picking him up to hold him before his face. "I don't know what I would do without you. And Sunstreaker? He's going to find out too." Tucking him into the crook of his arm, he turned and began his rounds making sure that everyone was safe inside the embassy.

=0=In Aspen that night

They arrived and drove to their house, Nast's house, entering, turning on the lights and emptying the five car garage that belonged to the 'cabin'. It was the usual mountain mansion, many rooms, immaculate décor and a garage filled with vehicles only used a few times a year. They drove out a jeep, a range rover, two pickup trucks and a trailer filled with snow machines. Putting them out of view behind the house the Autobots rolled inside out of the snowstorm.

Perceptor and Wheeljack hunching over in the open storage part of the garages put together the surveillance equipment and monitors that they would use during the conversation which would take place in four days. They had the capability to listen to a perfectly level conversation over ten miles away due to Nast's implant. Otherwise the clarity would fall below unimpeachable standards even if it would be courtroom admissable.

Ironhide, Trailbreaker, Bumblebee and Smokescreen squeezed in maintaining their vehicle modes and Jazz sat nearby leaning against a wall. Lennox stood in the doorway of the house, itself a five bedroom palatial palace and smiled. "Looks like the worst slumber party I ever saw."

"Ha ha, Lennox," Ironhide said as his holographic image flashing to life. Lennox never having seen it before blinked and stepped down walking toward it pausing. "Hide, you never showed me this."

"You never needed to see it until now. Handsome devil no matter what form I take don't you think?" he said smirking as he lounged against the side of himself.

Lennox snorted then nodded turning his head. "Hey, Epps! Graham! Get in here!"

They came and stepped down staring at Ironhide's holo-image with a look of shock and surprise. "This is awesome. Can the rest of you do it?" Graham asked jumping slightly as images popped into view all around him.

Ironhide was very tall, brawny and tough looking. A handsome enough figure, he looked invincible and a little intimidating. Dark hair contrasted with his blue optics. On his arm were the tattoos he wore on his body all of them in tight bands around his brawny biceps, tiny glyphs of a dark brown metallic color.

Trailbreaker was handsome and rugged in his holograph, tall and well made. He had short hair and looked like he could punch his way through stonewalls. He smirked at the soldiers and moved allowing Bumblebee to step out of the crowd. At least it appeared to be Bumblebee. He was youthful, slim and compact. His complexion was pale and his thatch of longish blond hair curling around his ears. He was cute as he stood smiling, a reflection of his sweet Autobot personality.

Jazz moving around the end of Ironhide's alt truck format paused smirking at the men who stared at him. He was African American, handsome and well made, his humor and elegance so much a part of him that no matter what format he took it shone like a beacon out of him. He reached out and touched Lennox, the soldier feeling him turning, reaching out to take Jazz's hand. He squeezed it, looked at it and turned to the others. "His hand is warm and solid. Amazing."

Smokescreen, a tall rangy individual stepped around Ironhide and looked at them, his black hair and handsome familiar smile unsettling. He looked like himself, like the smartest man in the room, someone with a great secret he wasn't going to tell anyone else. Then they disappeared leaving the room strangely empty.

"'Hide? Where did everyone go?" Epps asked stepping closer to the Topkick truck.

"Takes a lot of energy to do that to the degree that we did," Ironhide said from somewhere in the middle of his truck form. "We can do it but not forever. Some of us can do it longer and make more images too."

Lennox turned and looked at Wheeljack and Perceptor who paused and looked back at them. For a moment, they just looked at each other, then the holograms appeared two of them side by side looking at the soldiers curiously. Perceptor was tall and rangy, his hair black and his complexion pale. He was handsome and elegant, the type of sort who was a gentleman no matter what or who he was. Wheeljack looked more of a sport, a tall blond figure with a smile on his face. He was big and broader, stronger looking than Perceptor, then they disappeared, the robotic forms of the two once more their sole representation.

"That is so cool," Lennox whispered. "You have to do that more often. It would come in handy on assignments."

"We would need to boost our power considerably," Perceptor said pausing to consider the problem. "We could," he said turning to Wheeljack. "We'll put it on the list." With that, he turned back with his partner and began to work once more.

Lennox grinned and patted Ironhide. "Anything we can do for you out here?"

"Nope. Get me my sparkling," Ironhide said.

"Sorry, Ironhide. No can do," Lennox said with a chuckle.

The others begged off so they turned and went inside determined to enjoy Nast's hospitality to the fullest. The garage settled down and so did the bots as they waited out the storm outside and the one gathering on the horizon in less than four days.

=0=TBC c2010 (12)

* * *

**Chapter 130: Chapter 130**

* * *

The Diego Diaries: Date with His Demons

=0=Autobot City, Mars

They stood on the promontory, a rise of hillocks on the Tharsus Plain. Beyond them in their line of vision was Autobot City. Behind them rising with a glory that was unknown on the Earth was the awesome form of Olympus Mons. Mount Olympus, the greatest volcano known in the solar system, so tall it created its own weather in its cloud-covered summit cast a massive shadow across the plain as the sun continued its traverse. They had flown around it experiencing joy together and now they were resting, Starscream still weak and prone to dizziness.

"This is a good world." Skywarp turned to Starscream. "I can live here."

Thundercracker sitting beside Starscream nodded. "I like it. Cybertron is my spark's home but this will do."

Starscream looking at the sky considered their remarks. "There are only six of us here."

They looked at him considering his mood. "Six is more than nothing," Skywarp said.

"Six is not enough to ensure that our kind do not die out someday. All it would take is an accident or two." Starscream looked at his servos studying them as if he hadn't seen them before. "It would be a cruel thing to have survived all that we have only to disappear from here when we are safe and secure."

"What do you want to do, Starscream?" Skywarp asked.

"We must continue," he said glancing at the two. "We must keep our kind alive." He paused a moment. "I wonder if there are Seekers out there that are wandering? I wonder if it would be possible to bring them here?"

"We could ask Prime but I don't know that he would have any idea beyond us about what is out there," Thundercracker said.

"I want to talk to the refugees. To Magnus. I want to know. Then we have to consider hatchlings of our own," Starscream said quietly. "We cannot disappear." He looked up. "Who would fly in these skies if we do?"

They sat together quietly for a while before taking off once more.

=0=Starscream and Magnus

He sat on a bench outside their barracks soaking up the sun that shown down brightly. Pausing, he waited. Starscream sensing his presence opened an optic to stare at him. "Sit, Magnus. I need to ask you something."

Magnus moving carefully eased his bulk down beside Starscream. He leaned back and they sat together comfortably, silently. "It's a good sky here, Magnus," Starscream said. "Very nice to fly and so much interesting territory. There is a giant canyon on the plain that runs for thousands of miles and we flew it yesterday. Very intriguing."

"I'm glad you're up to it, Starscream," Magnus said nodding. He actually was. The Seekers had been model citizens of their city and he was warming slightly to them although he doubted he ever would totally trust them.

"We want to know something," he said turning to affix Magnus with his red optics. "Were there other Seekers out there? Did you see them anywhere?"

Magnus thought back and nodded. "I saw a few here and there."

Starscream nodded. "I would like them to come here. I would like a colony here that can raise hatchlings. I am concerned that our kind will disappear if we do not act."

Magnus felt his objections rising, then quashed them considering what Starscream was proposing. "You would have to assume that any Seekers that came here would be willing to live within the rules that you and your brothers have agreed to. What guarantees would we have that they would step away from war and join you in peace?"

"You would have our word, our personal and our Seeker oath. You would have my word as Air Commander of all Seeker forces. They would obey me."

"No offense, Starscream, but you are ill and how can you guarantee that a bunch of Seekers that are in top form would obey you?"

Starscream smiled slightly. "You underestimate me, Autobot. That has always been the problem with Megatron and now with you. You underestimate me."

"What do you want from me, Starscream?" Magnus replied gently.

"I want you to take my request to Prime. I want our Seeker kin to be here with us, to fly these skies, to help repopulate our numbers. We are a dying species without hatchlings. I **long** for hatchlings amongst us. I want to put out a call to them, the way that Prime had for you. I want them to come and live here, to fly these skies, to be at peace. I cannot live here this way knowing they are lost and wandering. I cannot live this way knowing that an accident could mean the end of Seekerkin here."

Magnus nodded. "I will tell him but I can't promise anything."

Starscream nodded then rose ruffling his wings as he stared at the sky. "I dream of seeing an end to the misery of my kind. I dream of skies filled with Seekers flying. Give that message to Prime." Then without another word he turned and walked inside.

Magnus sat a moment staring at the sky. In his mind there were Seekers there, multicolored Seekers flying and playing, falling and gliding, making their world seem more like home. Then he arose and walked back to his office in the Fortress.

=0=Later that same night

They lay together wrapped in each others arms. The younglings were asleep and they had finally found time to talk together.

"Magnus told me that Starscream would like to send a call for Seekers to come and stay at Autobot City."

"He did?" Prowl replied surprised. "Would that be practical?"

"Magnus said that Starscream feels his prestige among them will hold. He said he rather believes it himself. Starscream wants hatchlings. He's fearful of their kind dying out."

"I can see his point," Prowl replied. "What are you going to do?"

"I am going to talk to him and see what I think," Prime said. "The Seekers are part of us and to think that they might not survive would not be good for me or our people to contemplate."

"Do you think they will start hatchlings among themselves?" Prowl asked.

"They must be discussing it," Prime said.

"I think they would be so cute," Prowl said smiling. "Little Seekers with shiny wings buzzing around."

Prime smiled. "You like infants don't you."

"I do," Prowl said smiling. "Oddly enough, I love them. Seekers, mechs, femmes. All of them. Even the human babies are sweet."

"I really have no hope do I," Prime said chuckling.

"No," Prowl said raising his helm to peer at Prime who was smiling. "We have to set an example."

"Four mechs, three of them younglings and a grandmech coming along. I think we're doing pretty well, Prowl," Prime said smiling.

"Magnificently, I think. I can't **wait** to see this sparkling. I can't **wait** to hold it," Prowl said sighing softly. "Bluestreak is so excited."

"Sunstreaker looks like he swallowed poison."

"That will teach him to be reckless," Prowl said fiercely. Then he smiled. "Thank Primus he was. I get to hold a sparkling that belongs to us. We will have to babysit, Optimus. A lot."

Prime smiled squeezing Prowl's shoulders. "I love you."

"I love you," Prowl said squeezing Prime. "My life is perfect now."

Prime smiled. "So is mine, Only One. You have no idea."

=0=Outside the Seeker's Barracks, Mars

He stood by himself, everyone else inside recharging. He stared up at the sky filled with a longing that was hard to describe. It ate at him, filling him with deep unease. He had so few memories to dwell upon especially of the past few eons of his lifetime. Most of them were old and faint, the sounds of his family whispering to him, the feel of the sun on his wings as he first took to flight, the echo of old times long gone away.

Walking to the courtyard of the installation, the guards occupied with their own musings he spread his wings shaking them gently. Flying was his common memory, the flashes of old times, of his old life all tied together with the silver threads of flight. He shook his wings again feeling stronger than he had in longer than he could find in his memory. As he stood musing he came to a decision. Spreading his wings, stepping forward he transformed and flew off into the night sky. He would be breaking the gravity well of Mars before anyone looking would send out the call.

Starscream had flown away from Mars.

=0=Diego Garcia

He had gotten the message after dropping off his younglings to their care center. Turning, walking toward the Ops Center he met Prowl half way across the command deck. They discussed his flight plan, the myriad problems it was causing, then dispatched two Aerialbots to intercept him.

Flying through the vacuum, the cold soothing to his sensitive skin Starscream maintained a steady course toward Earth. Beyond the emptiness of the orbits of the planets a small island in the middle of a great ocean beckoned him onward. Streaking through the night, flying far better than he had in some time Starscream made his way.

=0=Aerialbots

They met him as he came within fifteen minutes of Earth. Arcing about, they took up station on either side of him. From the moment he had left the atmosphere of Mars he had been on the radar and sensor nets of everyone who had a hand in the maintenance of Earth's security. All around the world, he had been spotted and they were tracking him, following him in their interlinked networks, satellites calculating every movement he made as he winged his way forward.

They didn't know who he was. They just know he appeared around the edge of Mars and flew forth with great speed. Ops Center in N.E.S.T. and Ops Center in the Autobot HQ followed him as he came closer, the Aerialbots confirming that it was an 'unidentified Seeker' who was seeking audience with 'his Prime'.

The threat level was dropped when it was clear it was a 'confirmed neutral' and that the Aerialbots and the grounders at Diego Garcia would have it in servo. They flew into the upper atmosphere of Earth and downward, their flight path taking them to the island in the middle of the vast ocean. Landing gracefully, they rolled to a stop and transformed greeted by an armed guard and 'his Prime'.

Colonel Fulton standing beside Prime looked at the big figure who was an astonishingly handsome sight to behold. Another form of transformer, he was an aerial bot, different from the Autobot fliers in many ways Fulton considered. He was colorful, brilliantly colorful and he shone like a mirror. He stood with an almost arrogant grace holding himself straight with a military bearing. His wings were beautiful, ruffling as he set them to rights turning to looking at Prime without fear. "Prime."

"Star," Prime said. :You would do well not to let them know who you are. We would not be able to save you if they find out:

Starscream nodded. :I understand. I need to speak with you:

Prime nodded, then turned to Fulton. "There is no danger here, Colonel. This is a neutral Seeker who wishes to speak with me."

"Is there anything that we need to know?" Colonel Fulton asked.

"I will be the first to tell you," Prime said nodding.

Fulton nodded back, then turned pausing. "I will issue a stand down if you agree."

"I do," Prime said watching as the Colonel climbed into his jeep and drove away. He turned to Starscream shaking his head. "You have put us all in a bad way, Starscream. The whole world knows you're here and they had no idea before."

Starscream nodded. "I had to speak with my Prime," he said with a smirk. "Am I not still a citizen?"

Prime smiled slightly and nodded. "Unfortunately, I do believe you are." He turned and gestured. "Shall we go and talk?"

Starscream smiled, a rather rare and beautiful sight. "I would be happy to," he said as he stepped forward.

They turned and walked together followed by soldiers with arms and disappeared into the Embassy together.

=0=In the conference room

Starscream sat and accepted the energon given him by Prowl. Sitting himself, they both turned to the Seeker. He sipped his cube and smiled. "Good quality. Both here and Mars."

"We try," Prime said smiling slightly. "What brings you all the way here? Against orders I might add."

Starscream snorted. "Orders? What orders?"

"You're going to use your memory loss to your advantage I see," Prime said relaxing as he oddly enjoyed the moment.

"Advantages aren't advantages unless grasped," he said draining the cube. He set it down and folded his servos. "I wish to call to my kindred and bring them to this place of peace and safety."

"Magnus told me," Prime said nodding.

"And your decision? I wish to know. My dreams plague me. Death and dying. Seekers falling out of the sky. I am a desolation of worry, Prime. It would be a loss uncalculated to our species if our kind disappeared."

Prime nodded. "I agree. I am thinking about it. Right now, we would be amiss to do it. Give us a week. Seven orns. Then I will sanction it."

"Seven orns," Starscream said. "What is time to me? I cannot find in my present any memories. It's all in the past that I find myself now. I wish to see Seekers in the sky, hatchlings amongst us. I am lonely for a future for my kind."

Prime nodded. "We understand."

"You do," Starscream said nodding. "No one can breach this system without you knowing it. Your defenses are surprisingly good considering you consort with organics who are as comparable to us as bacteria. Their technology leaves much to be desired."

Prime smirked. "They beat you twice."

Starscream frowned a moment. "I do not have memories of that. I will assume you are telling me the truth."

"The Fallen fell," Prowl added quietly. "Megatron is gone. We are secure here and our fellows are coming."

"The Fallen is gone?" Starscream asked musing on that detail. "I can almost believe that but I would be a fool to assume that Megatron won't come back. He will. He haunts me. He will kill all our kind unless we come to a safe place and have time and energy for hatchlings. Our hatchlings failed I think. Maybe it was with the Fallen. I can't remember clearly." He sat thinking a moment. Then he turned to them both. "Call my people too and I will give you my word that they will be peaceable. We are all very weary."

Prime looked at him considering his request and nodded. "In eight orns, I will come to Autobot City and help you make the call."

"The Matrix," Starscream said nodding.

Prime nodded. "We will send out the call and wait for them. They will come, Starscream. The Seekers and our lost brothers and sisters. We will take them in and protect them."

"There will be sparklings again," Starscream said nodding. "Sparklings and hatchlings. It will be good. Very good."

Prime nodded. "I think we have agreement then?"

Starscream nodded and extended his servo. They gripped wrists and the electrical charge between them sealed the deal. Rising, Starscream looked around. "This is good." Then he looked at Prime appraisingly. "You almost make me think that Megatron won't be back but he will. He would never leave me alive. Never forget that, Prime. I can't."

Prime rose and took Starscream's arm leading him out of the facility and into the light. Cosmos was sitting on the tarmac as Prime turned to Starscream. "I would like you to ride back in Cosmos. It will help you conserve your energy."

"You think I need this?" Starscream said slightly amused and offended at the same time.

"If you are working on hatchlings, yes," Prime said smiling.

Starscream smiled genuinely, looking up at the sky. "I see them flying, their wings are beautiful and they are safe. That is what I see when I dream, Prime. What do you see?"

Prime smiled slightly. "I see an end to the war."

"Ah," Starscream said shaking his head. "We are both certifiable." With that, he walked onward boarding Cosmos and disappearing back to Mars.

Prime stared after him astonishment in his mind that he could feel something besides hatred for one of the most implacable foes of his long fabled career. Then he turned and walked back to his life.

=0=TBC

c2010 (12)


End file.
